Secunda Fortuna
by Angelwarrior1
Summary: He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City… Slash. BW/HP.
1. Prologue

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By: **Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Summary: **He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** As I always seem to forget about these things, I'll only to be posting this once. I do not own Harry Potter or Batman. They belong to their wonderful creators.

**Story Notes:** This will be taking place after the first two Batman movies, Batman Begins and Dark Knight. The only things I'm changing from the movies is that Rachel does not know that Bruce is Batman, so there was no romance between them. As for Harry Potter, things are canon up until the Train Station scene in the seventh book. After that things go AU. I will however add in that Harry has been practicing a bit of wandless magic, as it will benefit him greatly to have this ability in the story. Also, this story will contain m-preg, but not the usual kind where Harry got pregnant by having sex with someone. You'll just have to keep an open mind about how he got pregnant.

**Prologue:**

He opened his eyes. He was laying on his stomach. He laid there for a long time or maybe not, he wasn't sure. Everything was a bit… hazy. Pushing himself up on his hands he looked around himself. There was mist all around him. Such bright mist, even the floor seemed to be made of nothing but brightness. Looking down at himself he saw that he was nude. Oddly, this did not bother him. A noise distracted him from his musings. It was a thumping and whimpering sound. It made him uncomfortable and he suddenly wished he weren't nude. No sooner had the thought left him, did soft robes seemingly fall onto his body. He looked up when his surroundings seemed to morph before his eyes. That sound, he could now see the source. He recoiled at the sight. It was the small form of a naked child. It was under a bench. The skin of the child was flayed and raw, left there so small and unwanted.

Even though the child was small and fragile, he was afraid of it. He reluctantly approached it though, his fear caught in his throat. He reached out to touch it, but his fear inevitably held him back. He felt so cowardly in that moment.

"You cannot help." Harry spun at the voice.

Albus Dumbledore stood before him. Whole and undamaged in midnight blue robes.

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes Harry."

"You're dead though."

"I am indeed." Dumbledore spoke of it in a factual manner.

"Then… I'm dead too." Harry didn't know how to feel about that.

"So it would seem. However, I do not think that is the case." Dumbledore smiled that knowing smile that told Harry the old man was holding out on him.

His jaw clenched in anger at the thought.

"Not the case?"

"Not the case." Dumbledore's eyes started their twinkling.

"But he hit me! I took a direct hit from the Killing curse intentionally!"

"Precisely, which makes all the difference."

"I don't understand."

"But you do." Dumbledore twiddled his thumbs happily.

Harry felt his temper growing.

"So I let him kill me, what has that accomplished?"

"Much my dear boy."

Harry thought over everything that had happened for a moment.

"A piece of his soul was inside me. When he killed me… It's gone?"

"Yes, it is. Your soul is now your own."

Harry looked over at the small wriggling creature under the seat. Something was calling him to it.

"What is that?"

"Something that is beyond our help."

Harry shook off the feeling from the child and continued on.

"How can I be alive if I took the killing curse?"

"I believe you know the answer to that. Think back."

"He took my blood?"

"Yes! Lily's protection is inside both of you. He tethered your life to his."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"You were his seventh Horcrux Harry. An accidental one."

"You… knew all along?" Harry's anger was about to bubble over.

"I had guessed. My guesses are usually correct."

"You… sent me out to _die_ on a mere _guess_?!"

"My boy it-"

"_Oh stop_! No more half-truths! I'm tired of you only telling me part of things! I've done everything you've ever asked of me! And for what? This? You led me like a lamb to the slaughter on a guess! You never even told me your suspicions! Don't you think that's the kind of thing I should've known?"

"If I had told you, would you have done what was necessary?" Dumbledore looked at him with sad and tired eyes.

Harry looked away from those eyes. The man was too good at making others feel guilty with a mere look.

"You'll never know now, will you?" Harry muttered bitterly.

The creature under them whimpered in pain. Harry couldn't stand the cries of it anymore. He bent down to look at it. It really was a hideous little thing. Let it never be said that Harry was anything less than compassionate though. He picked it up. Dumbledore shouted.

"HARRY NO!"

It was too late. Harry was holding the squirming mess in his arms. He winced at the raw skin that rubbed against his arms and wished he had a blanket for the child. A blanket appeared on the bench. He wrapped the tiny thing into it.

"Oh Harry, you really shouldn't have done that." Dumbledore had a defeated look on his face.

"Will you actually tell me why?"

"I do not think you would be ready for the answer." Harry simply sighed at that and rocked the whimpering babe in his arms.

"You said I couldn't help it."

"Yes, that's right."

"How do you know? Have you tried?" Harry stared down at the quivering mass of flesh.

After not hearing a reply for several moments Harry glanced up at Dumbledore. The older man seemed at a loss of what to say.

"You already knew what would happen if I picked it up, didn't you?"

"No, but I have a strong guess."

"You won't share it with me though, will you?"

"I really don't think now would be the best time for you to know the consequences."

Harry glared softly at him. He had already known he would not be getting a satisfying answer.

"So what now?"

"Now, you decide."

"Decide what?" Harry looked at Dumbledore with a confused expression.

"Whether you will stay here, or return to face Voldemort for the last time."

"I have a choice?"

"My dear boy. You have always had a choice. Even when it does not seem like it."

Harry's glare softened. For all of Dumbledore's faults, he really was just trying to do what he felt was best. He really couldn't stay too angry with Dumbledore for not telling him about the Horcrux inside of him. What would he have done in Dumbledore's place? He really couldn't say. He gave a small smile to Dumbledore to let him know he was forgiven. Dumbledore smiled sadly back.

"Do you think I'll really be able to make a difference if I go back?"

"You have nothing to lose by going back Harry. You've already shown that Death does not frighten you. Voldemort has not shed that fear."

Harry nodded, his mind made up as he looked down at the child who'd oddly stopped whimpering after being rocked by Harry during the conversation. He looked up at Dumbledore, only to catch the end of a contemplating look on the man's face. A look Harry had seen before, which usually wasn't a good sign. It meant Dumbledore had figured out something. Something that probably wasn't good for Harry. Just as Harry was about to ask what he'd deduced, everything got brighter.

"Goodbye for now Harry."

"Wait! What will happen to the child?!" His voice sounded extremely loud suddenly.

"Only what is meant to." Dumbledore's voice was booming at this point.

Dumbledore watched as young man and baby faded away. Whispered words faded with them.

"I can only hope you have the strength of heart to endure."

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There's the prologue for you. I hope it came out okay. I'm a bit nervous about posting my first story with HP lore in it. I only hope I can do the world of HP justice. I'm going to go ahead and ask for Beta readers now. I need one well versed in HP lore and one well versed with Bruce Wayne/Batman characterization. I'm aiming for a Bruce Wayne/Batman who is as in character as possible. I'll be trying to make him a little more like his comic and animated counter parts. So I'll need a Beta reader who can spot whether or not Bruce/Batman is acting way out of character or not. Obviously the characters personalities will be changing as events unfold, but I'll do my best to make them act as believable as possible. If you see any spelling issues as far as spell or wizarding terms go please tell me. *Crosses fingers* Hope you'll enjoy this one.

-Angelwarrior1


	2. Chapter 1

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

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**Chapter 1:**

The battle had been rather anti-climatic for Harry in the end. He had risen up after Hagrid had carried his body back to Hogwarts. Voldemort had been understandably shocked. He then grew enraged and started proclaiming an early victory by saying how he would enjoy killing Harry. Again. He shot off the Killing curse once more and fell down dead when it ricocheted off of Harry and flew back at him. Harry had also spoken the disarming spell, "Expelliarmus", at the same time. He could now wield the Elder Wand. He was the Master of Death. While the crowd of Order members cheered and took down escaping Death Eaters, no one noticed the orb of light float from Voldemort's dead body into Harry's.

2 Months Later…

The wizarding world was slowly but surely getting back on its feet. Rogue Death Eaters were being rounded up by the Aurors. The Ministry was getting itself back in order. As for Harry, well… Everyone wanted a piece of the Savior. Reporters camped out around his residence 24-7. He could barely leave the bloody house at first without a group of people to fend off the blood suckers. Eventually, Hermione had suggested he get a restraining order. He did. It was now illegal to camp outside of Harry Potter's house. He had all of his mail routed to go to the Ministry to be checked for any spells. Once a week he would head in to check it. He picked random days and times for his mail trips.

The reporters still found him.

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The toilet flushed, taking the contents of Harry's lunch with it. He quickly got up and washed his face. Green eyes took in the appearance reflected back at them in the mirror. This had been going on for a while now. He wasn't sure what the hell was wrong with him, but he was getting damn tired of having to run to the loo every bloody morning.

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"Ron? There's something I need to tell you."

"What is it Hermione?"

"I… I've been experiencing some odd symptoms for about a month now. I've been tired and throwing up every morning. I'm also sore and Ron… I haven't had my period…"

Harry could hear a quick intake of breath from around the corner. He would have felt guilty for eavesdropping on his best friends very private conversation, except he was too busy freaking out. He was having some of those symptoms himself… He had been throwing up pretty much every morning and sometimes even in the afternoon for… Well it started happening about a month after the final battle. At first he thought he was just throwing up due to anxiety over everything going on around him.

For a while it seemed he couldn't get a moments peace and he was very stressed as a result. Understandably, when he started waking up extremely nauseous, he didn't think much of it. Only now, he was always tired and he was suddenly sore in his chest area. He obviously didn't have a period to miss, but he certainly had everything else Hermione had just told Ron.

"Bloody hell Hermione! Why didn't you tell me? We need to get you a healer!"

"I've already been to one Ron."

"You have? Well what'd they say?"

Harry leaned in more to hear Hermione's answer, desperate for some clue to his ailment.

"I'm pregnant."

"Blimey…"

Harry vaguely registered the heavy thunk of a body falling onto the floor, before feeling his legs give out and the floor meeting his bum. Pregnant? There was no way! That was insane! That couldn't be what was wrong with him. It just wasn't. Males didn't get pregnant. He lifted himself off of the floor and left the house of his two best friends in a daze.

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1 Month Later…

Harry had started sequestering himself away in Grimmauld Place after his learning of Hermione's pregnancy and was living in denial about his own condition. He refused to believe he could be pregnant. Sure, the magic world had some seemingly impossible things happen in it all the time, but a pregnant Harry Potter wasn't one of them. It just couldn't be. The universe wouldn't screw him over that bad. Right?

During his time hidden away from the world he'd taken to brooding and basically drinking himself into a blissful ignorance. He contemplated doing such a thing right now, but found that even he couldn't stand another night of the dark and utterly silent Grimmauld Place. He left instead and headed to a muggle bar to drown out the many thoughts swarming through his mind.

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He wasn't sure what started the brawl, all he knew was getting punched in the face out of nowhere hurt. A lot. Therefore, he had no qualms about throwing a punch back at the bastard who'd hit him. After that it was a blur of hits sometimes landing and other times not. His fists, legs, feet and sometimes even his head landed a blow to some unlucky person and then there was the thunderous sound of a small scale battle going on all around him.

What woke him from his chaotic void of blood shed was a blow… To his stomach. It was like suddenly he hadn't had numerous glasses of alcohol earlier in the evening. It was like waking up after a terribly long sleep.

Harry quickly took out the muggle attacking him and left the bar as quickly as possible. He raced to the nearest alley and apparated to Grimmauld Place. All the while he was holding his stomach. Harry was scared. It was one thing to deny the pregnancy, but he had gone out and consumed a substance that could harm his child. The same substance he had been drinking for the last month. Then there was the hit… Did he even possibly have a child inside his stomach anymore?

He needed to find out, because if he did have a life forming inside of his body, it was his responsibility to care for it.

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At first Harry hadn't known what to do in order to find out if he had a child growing inside of him. St. Mungo's certainly wasn't an option and he couldn't go to Hermione with this. That only left a muggle hospital, but that came with its own set of problems. A muggle doctor would freak the moment he found out Harry was a male. Unless…

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Harry squirmed a bit in discomfort in the skirt he was wearing. The outfit he was wearing wasn't terribly inspired. Just a simple baby tee and a knee length skirt with a pair of flats. He had used some of Dudley's old cast offs and transfigured them. They would serve their purpose at any rate.

"Harleen Evans?"

"Yes?"

"This way please."

Harry followed the woman into a cold room with some equipment set up. He had already had to pee in a cup earlier and after waiting around the waiting room for who knew how long he would finally hear the results.

"The doctor will be in shortly. In the meantime, you need to remove your skirt and underwear and cover your bottom half with this sheet." The nurse held up a flimsy looking piece of paper that Harry doubted would cover him adequately.

He nodded to show he understood and did as she said. He hid his wand under the sheet with his leg.

After another period of waiting, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

"Hello, Miss Evans." A middle aged male doctor popped his head through the crack of the door as he entered the room.

"Hello." Harry greeted back nervously.

"Well, I won't beat around the bush. You must be terribly nervous. The urine test came back positive. You are in fact pregnant."

Harry's ears felt like water was rushing through them after they heard those words. It was true then. He was really pregnant… Fear went through him at that thought. How? How could he be pregnant? He'd never even _had _sex before. Was this like what the muggles referred to as an immaculate conception?

Then he thought of all the alcohol he'd consumed during his period of denial and the blow to his stomach. Was the child alright? He didn't know what he would do if his actions had killed the growing baby inside his body.

"How far…?" Harry asked in a quiet daze.

"How far along are you? Well, I really won't know until I get a look. If you'll just lay down, I can perform the ultra sound."

Harry felt himself nod and laid down. When the doctor turned he moved quickly and confunded the man. He watched nervously as the man's eyes glazed a bit, then continued on with prepping. He felt the cold hands of the doctor as he moved the sheet down a bit, exposing his stomach. His shirt was pushed up, exposing his flat chest. The doctor was too dazed to notice. He felt the coldness of gel gliding onto his skin, the pressure of something being pressed into his stomach and the following words.

"Ah, there it is."

Harry snapped out of his haze with those words. He looked over to where the doctor was looking. His child was there on that screen. It didn't look like a baby though. It was very tiny, about the size of a large lime. He could see arms and legs and could hear a soft swooshing sound that indicated the heartbeat of his child.

"Hmm… Looks like you're somewhere in the third month. I'm guessing probably 10th, maybe 11th week." The doctor provided in a droning voice.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Third month? Three months ago he was facing off with Voldemort though. How the hell… Images of a white place flashed through his mind. A whimpering noise and flayed skin. The disfigured baby at the train station. The horrifying reality of his situation dawned on him. Dumbledore said there would be consequences and he was right as usual. Harry was carrying Tom Riddle in his stomach. He'd left with the baby in his arms and the only way for it to go with him would be for him to carry it in his body...

"You alright there? This seems to be a terrible shock to you. Were you not planning a pregnancy?" The doctor's glazed eyes tried to focus on him before going out of focus once more.

It appeared the doctor had a stronger will than most muggles. Hopefully he wouldn't break the spell and notice Harry was missing some parts and had others he shouldn't. Harry blinked away the haze his mind seemed to be in and looked at the doctor.

"No it wasn't expected. Um… So what happens now?"

"Well, you still have time to get an abortion if that's the route you wish to go. If not, there are some prenatal vitamins and some other things you'll need to make sure your baby gets everything it needs." The man's eyes stared blankly across the room as he said this.

Harry's eyes widened in horror at the word abortion. How could he even suggest such a thing?! He would never kill his unborn child, even if it was the reincarnated form of Tom Riddle growing inside him. The man Tom Riddle may have been a monster, but this was an innocent infant! He wasn't going to murder him! Harry shot a glare at the doctor, who didn't notice his ire due to his confunded state. The man continued on in his same droning monotone.

"Yes well, I'll have the nurse bring you a copy of everything you'll need in order to care for your growing child. Congratulations."

Harry watched the man leave as his glare softened. He supposed he couldn't really blame the man for suggesting such a thing. Harry had seemed very out of it once he learned of his pregnancy. Even in his confunded state the doctor probably noticed somewhere in the back of his mind.

Another short period of waiting ensued and then the nurse was there, handing him a small stack of papers and a small bag filled with different vitamins to take.

Harry Potter left the muggle hospital feeling lost, confused and conflicted. He knew this changed things drastically for him. He couldn't stay in the wizarding world for one thing. People would wonder how and when he'd managed to get pregnant during a time he was facing off with Voldemort. Then they would want to know who the father was, which he had no answer for since he didn't know what to think of in regards to that himself. Hermione and Ron just wouldn't understand this. Ron would demand that he have an abortion after his initial freak out and Hermione would want to research everything and see if this would hurt Harry.

Harry didn't feel that this would. His gut was telling him that this wasn't anything meant to kill him. He felt this was right, like this was a second chance for Tom. As someone who had grown up in a less than stellar atmosphere, he sympathized somewhat with Tom Riddle's childhood. He'd always wondered, what would Tom have been like if he had been exposed to a loving atmosphere rather than a hostile one? This was his chance. He could give Tom a loving home and maybe he'd have the family he'd always wanted.

Harry had never felt completely at ease with the Weasley's, as wonderful as they were. He usually just didn't feel like he belonged. There had been a brief time when he'd considered giving in to Ginny's crush and going with her in order to finally be one of the Weasley's, even if just through marriage. Looking back, he was immensely grateful that he'd followed his instinct on that one and steered clear of her. It just wouldn't have been fair to her. Ginny deserved happiness. Hell, they all did. So, in the end, he'd let her go and find herself someone truly deserving of her affections.

With this new development having come along, he'd need to plan out his next moves. He needed to find information on male pregnancies. He needed to find some female clothes so he could blend into the muggle world without people freaking out on him. He needed money from his vaults. He needed… he needed to find the nearest loo.

People on the streets watched in bewilderment as a young woman rushed by them in a terrible hurry.

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I was really quite surprised with the reviews sent. Thank you very much! No one has still signed on to beta, so I'm kind of wandering in the dark a bit. I'm not sure how fast updates will be coming. It really depends on reviews and if I get a beta or not. I tend to be very discouraged if it seems no one likes a story of mine. I still have several unfinished fics due to those very reasons. So yeah, reviews are very much a driving force for me. As for a beta, I need one to bounce ideas off of. I only have a vague general direction planned for this to go in. Please review and let me know if I should bother continuing this or not. If not, I have plenty of other stories to work on. *Blushes as fan holds up an Iron Man and Spider-Man plushy.*

-Angelwarrior1


	3. Chapter 2

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Note:** To all those asking about when Harry will start pretending to be a female; he'll be starting in this chapter and will continue after Tom is born. Harry's identity in the Muggle world is female. It'd be strange if Harry just appeared in the Muggle world with no identification. Also, thank you to everyone who volunteered to be a Beta reader. I found a couple of them .

**Beta Readers:** itachisgurl93 and LonelyWallFlower

**Special Thanks:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed and sent messages of encouragement for this to continue! I really do appreciate all of your kindly written words. To all of those offering Beta services I thank you, but I've found one. If anyone wants to be a Brit-picker just let me know.

**Warning: **Attempted non-consenual.

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**Chapter 2:**

Harry stepped off of the plane and looked around him. It was dark out, but things looked bright with the artificial light source the Muggles favored.

He'd taken out the majority of his galleons from his vaults left to him by his parents. He instructed the Goblins to transfer some to the Weasley's, Ron, Hermione and lastly his godson Teddy. He'd regretted leaving him behind the most. He knew it was necessary for the time being though. His hope was that one day he'd be able to take him in once Tom was born and a little older, but he really wasn't sure how Tom would react to having to share his attention. Tom had always been very selfish and Harry wasn't sure if that was just Tom or due to his upbringing.

Pulling out his map of Gotham City, Harry looked at it again. He'd already found the place he wanted to stay at. He'd chosen an old apartment building located in the Hill, because it was the closest he could get to living near a bridge named the Mooney Bridge, which he'd found endlessly amusing.

He was glad the dice he'd rolled over the map of America had landed on Gotham City. The moment he'd stepped off of the plane he'd felt the old magic that lay in the city. It reeked of chaos. He would have to be careful with his magic here once he could use it again.

After getting his finances in order he'd gone looking for knowledge on male pregnancies, which there wasn't much on. It was frightening how in the dark he'd be on this whole thing. What he did know, however, was that his magic would go into protecting the womb, giving the growing baby a piece of his magic to develop its own core and helping it grow faster. Male pregnancies apparently only lasted seven months, rather than nine. This was due to males being much weaker than females during pregnancy, since more magic was spent on creating the parts necessary for childbirth.

Harry would be defenseless later in his pregnancy. This terrified him and only solidified his plan to procure somewhere the wizarding world couldn't find him. He'd changed his appearance by lengthening his hair. It now went down to his lower back. He was startled when he noticed it curling after he showered with the new length for the first time. It was much more tame now.

Another change was his eyesight, which he'd finally had corrected by St. Mungo's. Under disguise, he had no problem going in and leaving. After examining his eyes, a potion to correct them was created. The potion took a week to make. During this time he'd worked on creating his new identity.

To the Muggle world he would be known as Harleen Riddle. Deciding on his first name hadn't been very hard; it was his last name that had taken longer. Eventually he had picked Riddle. No one would suspect him of choosing the name of his enemy, after all. Those who knew Harry thought he hated Tom Riddle. Even Ron and Hermione didn't know how he really felt about the man. No, Harry hated Voldemort, not Tom.

To many there may not have seemed to be a difference, but to Harry, it was immense. Tom Riddle was the misunderstood, lonely boy who was without anyone to show him love and compassion. Voldemort was the monster that emerged from his hatred of those who were cruel to him. To Harry, Tom Riddle would always be that sullen faced child he'd seen in the Pensieve memories.

The last change was his wardrobe, which had taken a while for him to adjust to. He wasn't used to putting so much work into getting dressed. He would usually just throw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Now he had to color coordinate, fix his hair and put make-up on. At least he didn't have to shave. There was a potion women used that got rid of hair instantly once they applied it to the desired area. It was very easy and Harry bought several cases immediately after his trial use.

He had also stocked up on baby stuff and maternity clothes. All of this would be carried in a trunk that had wizarding space built in. If he ever needed more space the trunk would automatically expand. Touching his now four month pregnant tummy, Harry smiled softly in thought of wearing the maternity clothes he'd bought.

Leaving the airport, he found a row of cabs waiting for passengers at one end of the entrance. He approached one and asked to be taken to any apartment buildings located in the Hill. The driver gave him a weird look and appeared as if he wanted to question Harry's sanity, but eventually just shrugged and drove away from the curb.

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Jim Gordon wanted to groan in frustration. His fellow officers were camped out around a building with 20 hostages inside. Hostage taking seemed to be a big thing for criminals in Gotham.

It wasn't any high profile criminals holding these people hostages, just the run of the mill group of two-bit thugs looking to score some cash.

What had the police so riled up was the fact that Batman hadn't shown up yet. While he didn't have to be there, being the Commissioner and all, he figured he was needed to "help" bring in the vigilante.

Then he noticed it, a dark shadow that raced quickly out of sight into the building with the hostages. At least the hostages would be alright now. His lips upturned slightly at the thought.

The SWAT Team buzzed into his ear piece. Apparently, one of them had spotted Batman taking out a thug from his hiding position.

"Don't do anything that will endanger those hostages." He ordered.

He couldn't very well say not to shoot Batman, after all. Unfortunately, people tended not to listen very well. Shots started firing in the building and the officers around him began shouting and firing their own weapon. Batman crashed through a window on the fifth floor and glided away. Hostages were running out of the building and the officers who weren't helping them or going into the building to round up the thugs, were getting into their cars to chase the caped figure.

He cursed and jumped into his own car. It would seem the people of Gotham were out for the blood of its only protector.

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A helicopter sounded overhead. His night vision helped him avoid some rubble in the alley. He activated the tumbler and rounded the corner to fire a grappling hook at a roof edge to pull him up. Light moved over him and he knew he'd been spotted. Shots fired after him from the air. The sirens of the police were drawing closer.

The hard feel of concrete hit his booted feet. They pounded on the roof as he raced across it to jump to the next rooftop. The tumbler would be at the next building below.

Bullets flew by and around him, some hitting where his feet once were. Others went through his cape. A couple hit him, but the Kevlar protected his vulnerable skin. The end of the building top came up and he didn't hesitate to jump off it. His cape flew out as he landed on the ground with a jarring thud.

No time was wasted as he took off once more and ran through the darkness. He could hear the police ordering him to surrender himself as he approached the alley where his tumbler waited, hidden in the black of Gotham's night.

The top opened as he sped up to it and he hopped into its seat, revved the engine and sped out before the police could figure out where he was.

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Harry blew the hair from his eyes as he straightened and surveyed his tiny one bedroom apartment. He hadn't had a hard time getting an apartment. The building he was living in was old and rundown, not a place one actively sought to live in. It suited Harry's purposes though. It wasn't likely anyone would be looking for him here of all places, with the amount of money he had.

Immediately upon entering the apartment during his first night there, he'd started casting wards on his doors. The building had several unsavory types living in it, including one male who unnerved him senseless with the way he'd kept staring at him when he walked by.

It was the kind of staring someone gave you when they were analyzing you too closely. Imagining things in their minds you'd rather not know. Harry shuddered at the thought.

After the wards he started on cleaning the horrid looking room. The smell, ugh, it was liked an animal had died in the place and no one had bothered to clean it up until recently. It really wouldn't have surprised him if that was what indeed had occurred.

He rubbed his aching back. He'd put on a bit of weight and he had a bit of a bump now. His hands stroked over the stomach softly as he smiled down at it.

It wasn't the ideal place to raise Tom, but it was all theirs. He felt excitement rise up to greet the anxiety already inside him. He was on his own for the first time. Sure he'd lived by himself at Grimmauld Place, but that wasn't the same. That was Sirius' home, given to him after he died. This was a place he'd picked out on his own, with no one else's input. It was a surge of independence that was gratifying.

Unshrinking the trunk in his pocket, he unloaded the bed and other pieces of furniture with his magic. He would obviously have to buy a few pieces of furniture and have them delivered as well. It would be odd to his neighbors if he didn't seem to have need of furniture when he'd obviously arrived very empty handed.

Harry sighed as he made up his bed. There were just too many things to worry about when living amongst Muggles.

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He'd been careful when he went out. The city was in turmoil after the death of Harvey Dent and all the others. The city of Gotham's people were demanding their justice. If he gave Gotham's people what they demanded then there would be no one to defend her dwellers and he was nothing if not faithful to her, his city.

The cries of a woman rang out in the night and the figure standing on top of the rooftop listening for just such a signal swooped down, ready to aid his majestic city.

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He turned from side to side as he gazed at his stomach in the floor length mirror that had recently been delivered. He was five months along now. It wasn't hard to Confund the doctors seeing him to into thinking they had an ordinary patient. Tom's growth was coming along as expected, though he had to lie about how far along he was to the doctors.

The baby's growth had sped up just as the books on male pregnancy had said it would. His heart swelled with love and pride when he saw a new image of his Tom. It wasn't odd to think of Tom as his now. The two seemed to be constantly linked together.

He tugged at the choker hiding his adam's apple. Oddly, it seemed to have shrunk slightly. He knew it was his magic making the changes to his body and wouldn't be surprised if more changes came about. As long as his man bits didn't disappear. He wouldn't take kindly to that.

He gave a satisfied hum of approval and tugged his tunic down. His long skirt swished softly as his flats made soft clicking sounds on the floor. He grabbed his purse, the lunch he'd bagged the night before out of the fridge and his coat, shrugging it on. He did this all very quickly and left.

He'd managed to find a job at a second hand bookstore, the only one in the neighborhood in fact. The store owner was kind enough to let him sit in the back when the store was empty. He had rather long shifts. The store opened at seven, which he sometimes had the task of opening, and closed at eight. He usually had early shifts, trading off with the store owner's daughter when she came in to take over. Today his shift was the later one, however.

The hair on the back of his neck rose when he felt eyes on him. It was him again. Ever since he'd arrived about a month ago the same man always seemed to be around when he was coming or going. He'd like to say he didn't know what the man wanted from him, but he did know. Sadly, he wasn't that naive. Luck still seemed to favor him though, as he'd never been approached by the eerie man.

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The fake laugh reached his own ears and he hated the sound of it. Couldn't anyone tell that his laugh was fake? Apparently not.

"Brucie darling?"

"Hm?" He gave his date, whose name eluded him at the moment, a clueless face.

The woman gave a frustrated sound. Obviously he hadn't been a very good date tonight. The sound of her speaking reached his ears and he realized he'd missed her talking again.

"If you can't even pay attention to me then why did you ask me out in the first place?" She shrieked in outrage and threw her glass of champagne into his face.

'That would be one reason.' His mind supplied in amusement.

The click of cameras went off around him and he knew he would make the papers tomorrow. Smug triumph welled up inside of him.

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Harry closed the shop and headed to the grocery store to pick up some items for the week. It wouldn't take as long if he didn't have to walk, but he didn't know how to operate an automobile so he had to resort to traveling on foot for now. As a result, it took him twenty minutes to make it to the store. He wasted no time in picking out his groceries, and made it through the check out in less than ten minutes. By the time he left the store about thirty-five minutes had gone by.

Harry didn't like being out so late in this city. The magic in Gotham seemed to flourish and thrive at night. Magic affected Muggles in different ways. The studies on the affects of magic on non-magical beings had been going on for years. Some grew violent and others simply felt tense and anxious. A very small percent even felt thrilling feelings, like the magic was an aphrodisiac that slowly built up the excitement in them.

At night he always heard such loudness from the city around him in his tiny apartment. Screams and shouting. The piercing fire of guns. He feared the city's might during that time in those late and early hours.

He sped up his pace. If only he'd been paying more attention to the shadows rather than the magic of the city.

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After shedding his mask of ignorance, he became the animal of dread amongst his enemies once more. He scoured the streets below and turned up his earpiece that amplified his hearing. Landing on a nearby roof, he paused to listen. When he didn't hear anything but silence he almost took off once more.

His hearing picked up a sound he wouldn't normally hear from such a height. The sound of fear. He stepped off of the building roof and dropped into the alley.

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His breaths came fast and panicked. Someone was holding him by the throat firmly. Not enough to strangle him, but it wasn't going to be letting him go anytime soon. His ears picked up the sound of sniffing. He was being scented by this predator.

"Pretty." Reached his adrenaline amplified ears before his back was slammed against the wall.

His eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of the male holding him. It was him. The eerie man from his building who loved watching him.

He stared into Harry's eyes with an intensity that left undiluted fear in Harry. Even Voldemort hadn't inspired this level of fear. With Voldemort there had only been torture, loss of loved ones and death to fear. With this man... he could lose everything. His innocence. His spirit and what ultimately made up his very _self_.

"Don't do this." Harry couldn't help but whisper pleadingly.

He knew he shouldn't. Predator's loved when their prey showed fear. He wasn't just protecting himself though. He had to guard his child.

The man gave a chilling smile and yanked Harry to him for a violent kiss that left Harry shriveling inside.

"No!" Harry bit at the man's mouth in retaliation and struggled for all he was worth.

He kicked out, scratched and pounded at the hulking male holding him by the upper arms. There wasn't much he could do at that point, not with his magic on vacation. He was no match for the man strength wise, either. Tears tried to escapes his eyes, but his stubborn pride refused their exit.

The man gave a dark laugh at his attempts and Harry was once more slammed into the wall behind him. He was turned over, and Harry pushed against the wall as much as he could. He didn't want to crush his rounding stomach. The sound of a buckle being undone reached his ears and he shivered.

The wall was cold and damp under his fingers and cheek. The foreign touch of a large hand on his backside forced a whimper from his throat against his will. It bunched up his long skirt and reached under-

A primal roar broke the tense atmosphere. The hand was suddenly off of him and Harry choked out a sob in relief as the sounds of flesh being pummeled reached his ears. For all of his courage Harry found that he couldn't look up until the sound of a body hitting the floor reached his ears.

He had to look behind him. Had to know if his attacker was still a threat to him and if he wasn't, was this new arrival what he should fear next?

Harry turned. A dark figure stood over his attacker. A long cape that caressed the concrete ground. Pointed ears stood on the black as pitch head. The only reason Harry could even see this dark being was due to the small amount of light from a lamp post in the street nearby.

The head turned. Harry's eyes widened. The being radiated danger and Harry couldn't help holding his stomach. His dark savior seemed to notice this and backed away into the shadows.

Harry instantly felt guilty. The man, for it was obviously just a normal human man doing this, had just saved him from a horrible fate. Possibly even death. He'd also saved his child, his Tom.

"Wait." He called out quietly.

Harry waited to see if he had been heard. The man came back from the shadows.

"Thank you."

The man didn't give any reply. Harry blushed a bit in embarrassment. What was he doing? Obviously the man had other places to be. Other people most likely needed help elsewhere as well. He really shouldn't hold this dark man up from his business.

He looked down and noticed one of his grocery items on the floor. Stooping down to pick it up, he began looking for the rest of his purchases in the dimly lit alley. He almost jumped when a black gloved hand holding a pear appeared by his left shoulder. Looking up, he took the fruit and placed it into the bag blindly. His eyes never left the man before him.

The man turned and bent down, his cape laying gently out behind him. Harry watched curiously as he rustled with something in the shadows and blinked in surprise when the man stood back up. He had picked up his groceries.

For some reason this made Harry want to cry. He supposed it was the baby hormones at work. He held out his arms and accepted the paper bag filled with his food. The man bent down and picked up the other plastic bag and looped Harry's right arm through it for him.

"Go." A deep raspy voice startled Harry from the silent atmosphere.

Harry looked over at his downed attacker, who laid partially in the shadows, reluctantly.

"What about him?" He questioned quietly with a timidity he hadn't displayed since his Dursley days.

"I'll take care of him." The voice husked out.

Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off of the man who'd almost stolen more than Harry could ever imagine from him. A hand landing softly on his shoulder and giving the tiniest of squeezes jerked him from his thoughts. He looked up into the masked face.

"Thank you." He whispered again and turned, the hand falling from his shoulder.

He left the dimly lit alley and when he was truly gone, only then did Gotham's protector turn and tie the man up to hang his body in plain view of the police station.

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Thanks so much for all of the support being given to me through all of your wonderful reviews! I truly appreciate them. And look how quickly I wrote this. I've never cranked out new chapters this fast. I'm quite surprised with myself. Let me know what you think.

Author's Notes: All the locations I mentioned in Gotham, such as the Hill and the Mooney Bridge do exist in the DC universe. I found a map of Gotham and use that whenever I need to.

-Angelwarrior1


	4. Chapter 3

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By: **Angelwarrior1

**Rating: **M

**Pairing: **Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary: **He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Beta: **blackkat

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**Chapter 3:**

His name was David Forrestor, though most people didn't bother to stop and notice him. There were many others like him hanging around this part of the city. All of them spent their nights in the few places that would let them stay. When it was too crowded he would see the ones left out sleeping on benches and in alleys.

It was a miserable existence for the homeless of Gotham, and the Hill was just like any other poverty stricken neighborhood in the city. It carried the feeling of there simply being no hope, for anyone.

Rachel's words from years past entered his mind.

"People speak about the Great Depression as if it were over, but it isn't. It's worse than ever here."

Being here, seeing the run down stores with bars on their windows and doors...

He shook his head. He couldn't afford to think like Batman or Bruce Wayne right now. It was too dangerous to be noticed in this neighborhood.

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Harry rubbed his sore back subtly as his walked home. Being five months pregnant and having a job that required him to stand for a good portion of it really sucked. Ever since the terrifying night in the alley he'd made sure to return home straight away. He bought anything he needed during the daylight hours- this being the reason Harry had several plastic bags on his arms as he rubbed his aching lower back.

His employer and the man's daughter gave him sympathetic looks, but never mentioned reducing his hours. It would simply cut Harry's pay, which he couldn't afford. It would look weird if he started working less hours but didn't seem to be struggling financially. He certainly didn't expect the man to give him less hours without reducing his wage. Everyone was struggling in the bad parts of Gotham, which seemed to outnumber the good ones.

A cry across the street caught his attention and he looked to see a mother with several children scolding one who was trying to run out on the road. Turning back to watch his step, he only saw the brown of a coat before bumping into another body and losing his grip on a few of his bags. He cried out as his balance was lost as well, and hugged his stomach to protect it from the impending fall-

He never hit the ground. Strong arms had wrapped around his shoulders and upper back, holding him up. Raising what he knew to be stunned green eyes, he stared straight up into equally surprised sharp blue eyes.

Only the sound of a rolling can, plunking off the sidewalk and onto the road snapped Harry out of the eye lock he was in. He reached out to retrieve the can before it could roll too far into the street.

"Terribly sorry about that." Harry bent with a hand on his stomach in preparation to pick up the can.

The man before him beat him to it.

"Let me help 'ya with that." A husky southern voice that sounded as if it hadn't seen much use spoke.

Harry watched as the man pick up the rest of his fallen groceries. He held out his arms expectantly to receive them once more. The man didn't give them back.

"Uh, thank you. I'll just be on my way then."

"I'll carry them back ta your place."

"That really isn't necessary-" Harry began, only to stop when the weight of one bag lessened quite rapidly.

He looked down to find the rest of his cans and such on the sidewalk once more. Catching the amusement in those sharp blue eyes, Harry was barely able to stifle a growl. He instead settled for grinding his teeth in silent anger.

"It's no problem." The man bent once again to gather all of Harry's lost purchases.

Harry stared at the man to see if he could figure out his motives. This was the first time he'd seen anyone being so kind to a perfect stranger in this neighborhood. He'd seen mothers struggling with their children and bags of food of their own with no one even glancing their way.

He himself had gotten quite lucky with his employer taking a risk on him. After all, with him being pregnant there was no guarantee he'd be working there very long. Maybe the man wanted to rob Harry once he made it to his place? Or maybe he really did just want to help out what appeared to be a stressed young mother-to-be?

'Yeah, like that's bloody likely.' Harry gave an internal snort.

He'd just keep an eye on the man. If he looked like he was going to try something this man would earn a can of baby carrots smashing into his skull as payment for his 'kindness'.

Harry started off, listening for the man behind him to see if he really would follow. His ears picked up the rustling of plastic and some shifting to settle the bags more securely, then footsteps hurrying to catch up.

Silence drifted between the two strangers as Harry led the man to his apartment building. The silence wasn't comfortable in the least. Harry could feel the burning of intense eyes boring into the side of his skull.

Harry felt his body getting ready to go into fight or flight mode the closer they came to his apartment. It was the same feeling he'd had many times in the past when he was fighting for his life against Voldemort and his followers. Usually fight or flight mode had come on quickly as the danger sprung up out of seemingly nowhere, so he'd never had to feel his body building up this overwhelming anxiety. It was like he was walking a precipice, never tipping one way or the other. The waiting was agony.

Then the time for waiting ceased. They had arrived.

"Well, this is it." Harry eyed his groceries in the man's arms and gestured that he would take it from here.

The man looked hesitant to give them to Harry and looked at the many stairs that led up to different floors.

'Forget the can of baby carrots, that jar of spaghetti sauce will do much better.' Harry plotted in his head the best way to get his hands on that jar.

He would at least have something solid to smash against this creep's skull. The fraying of Harry's nerves soothed when his groceries were finally handed back to him.

"Thanks." Harry mumbled.

"No problem. My name's David, by the way. David Forrestor." David didn't bother trying to shake Harry's hand, seeing that Harry's arms were full.

"Harleen Riddle." Harry wanted desperately to head to his apartment at this point.

"See 'ya 'round Ms. Riddle."

"Right. Er, thanks again, Mr. Forrestor." Harry turned and began up the stairs, inwardly cursing the long skirt he'd chosen to wear that day.

If only he could wear pants without there being a noticeable bulge in his crotch region. He mused on the pros and cons of "tucking", but gave it up pretty quickly. He was willing to go to great lengths for his child, but that was just too creepy even for him.

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He turned his head to the right. Then slowly to the left. His eyes never left his reflection. It was odd, but after staring at his face for the last fifteen minutes he could only conclude his face had changed on him. To be more precise, it was just his jaw line that had changed subtly on him. He hadn't even noticed until he was putting his lipstick on in the full length mirror that morning. He hadn't had time to really look at himself then, as he was running late for work. Once he returned, however, he went straight to the mirror in his bedroom and began a staring contest with his reflection.

For close to fifteen minutes, he stood there, eyes pouring over every detail of his face to find what was different. At the end of those long minutes, he finally pinpointed what was off. His jaw line looked like it had rounded a bit. During the last few years of Hogwarts he had been proud to notice his jaw squaring rather nicely, finally giving him the look of a young man. He was, of course, sad to see that nice development to his face gone. The softening to the jaw line made his face more androgynous.

He stripped down and looked over the rest of his body with a critical eye. Overall, his frame still looked the same. Petite, lithe. His shoulders were still narrow, his arms still skinny with light muscles from years of hard labor at the Dursley's and later from Quidditch and training to improve his fighting techniques. Luckily, there weren't any changes to his chest, so he skipped over that area and past his round stomach to his hips. Had they... _flared out_?! His hips had widened! He turned and looked at his rear to make sure that hadn't enlarged as well. Nope, same small, round ass cheeks. He sighed in relief.

Looking at his wider hips, Harry mused that it wasn't too bad. After all, the baby needed room to come out and his hips had been very narrow before they'd changed. The only reason Harry could think of for his face changing would be due to Harry's unconscious desire to stay hidden as long as possible. His magic was changing his body for him to help him blend in better. The more he looked like a female, the less anyone would notice anything strange about him. They wouldn't realize how much of a freak he was. And, Merlin, there was that word again. Freak. It described him so well with so many areas of his life.

Tears leaked out of his very green eyes. Great, now he was depressed.

"Bloody tear making hormones." Harry muttered as he redressed in a comfortable t-shirt and loose pants, and then went over to the freezer to pull out some ice cream.

His last doctor had wanted him to gain some weight anyhow.

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Harry didn't know if it was merely coincidence or if he had a stalker, but when he went down the stairs to walk to work David Forrestor was there. In fact, he was sleeping on a bench that was in front of the old building. At least it looked like he was asleep. Harry didn't want to encourage the man by acknowledging him if he was indeed following him.

He walked by the bench and continued on his way silently, but it seemed the man was a light sleeper.

"Ms. Riddle, nice ta see 'ya again." That same harsh voice sounded behind Harry.

He wondered if the man was a smoker.

Harry tried not to tense up too much and turned around to give the man the best smile he could. He could feel the tension in his expression.

"Mr. Forrestor. Fancy seeing you here."

"The bench was too good a spot ta pass up. Don't usually find a good place ta sleep 'round here." The man shrugged, in his ratty looking coat, as he stood and walked towards Harry.

Harry noticed the southern accent grew heavier, every once and a while, in the man's voice.

"Oh, uh... That's too bad. Um, well... I must be going now. Work." Harry stuttered out nervously.

"I'll walk with 'ya." David's voice drawled.

The man's eyes were so blue and intense.

"That's really not necessary." Alarm bells were going off in Harry's mind.

"S'no big deal. Gotta head ta the soup kitchen anyways." The man gave another shrug.

While Harry was still wary, he didn't want to seem too suspicious of David, lest he tip him off. Harry forced his stance to relax, donning the role of a clueless young woman, rather than a war hardened young man.

"I suppose it's no trouble then. " Harry turned and began his usual way to the bookstore.

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Sharp blue eyes took in his surroundings as he walked slightly behind the young woman. When he'd bumped into her, he'd noticed that she looked familiar. It didn't take long to flash back to the young pregnant woman Batman had rescued in the alley. She had groceries with her then, too.

He took in the much smaller figure, a few steps ahead to his left. She had long black hair. It was currently up in a messy bun, wavy tendrils hanging down over the knot of hair tied on her head. Her long black skirt moved gracefully with her steps and the end of it stopped just above her slim and narrow feet, covered in plain black flats. They weren't small feet, but they weren't large, either. Average. Her height was slightly above average. He approximated that she stood at 5' 7". Her frame was lithe, except for her stomach, which was covered by a long emerald tunic. She was dressed simply, yet she still looked lovely. In fact, she looked far too nice to live where she did.

Seeing her like this, he couldn't say he was surprised that she was attacked. Batman saved pretty women all the time and this one was certainly good looking.

Snapping out of his thoughts on the female in front of him he found himself so fascinated with, he started checking his surroundings. As David Forrestor, a homeless man, he wasn't noticed very much. This in turn gave him the opportunity to pay attention to everyone else. Looking around now, he saw a couple of shady men hanging in an alley. It looked like a drug deal was going down. Nothing unusual. Batman had come across plenty of those. No, he was looking for the big stuff. Potential plans in the making that some people weren't scared to mutter about around those with no influence like David Forrestor.

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Eventually they reached the bookstore and Harry turned to bid David goodbye.

"Thank you for walking with me."

"It wasn't any trouble. I'll see 'ya 'round." David turned, scratching at his scruffy beard, and walked off with his hand shoved into his ratty coat pockets.

Harry winced at the sound of the course hair being scratched. The man certainly could use a good grooming. His hair was long and shaggy, knotted in some places. The beard was unkempt and knotted as well. Luckily there wasn't any food in it, or not from what he could see, anyhow. The clothes David wore fit him, at least, but were very ragged at this point. He was very tall with wide shoulders, though, if Harry wanted to point out his positive traits. He also had gorgeous blue eyes and a nice, straight, patrician nose. He wondered what the man would look like properly cleaned and trimmed.

Harry shook his head and walked into the store to start his shift.

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Over the next couple of weeks, Harry bumped into David every so often. If it happened to be one of Harry's grocery days, David would gallantly help out. However, Harry had always taken the bags up to his apartment, until one day, he decided to invite the man in.

He hadn't planned on it, as David just showed at the most random times. Even so, Harry felt that it was a good choice. A spur-of-the-moment kind of thing.

"Have you eaten today?" Harry asked in concern.

He knew that the man visited the soup kitchen everyday for food. From what he understood, they didn't always have enough supplies to last until the cut-off time.

The man shook his head in the negative.

"Would you like to come up then? If you don't mind waiting, I can make enough dinner for two." Harry nervously shifted the bags he'd taken back from David.

"Well, then you'd best give me back those bags, then." David's stance was relaxed, his hands in his pockets.

It was how Harry usually saw the man.

"Why?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Cause if we're both going upstairs it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to let a pretty lady such a yourself carry all them bags up there." David gave a jesting smile as his accent went more southern than Harry'd ever heard from the man.

"Why, good Sir, are you trying to get the cookies I bought to go with dinner with all that flattery?" Harry laughed at the silliness between them.

"Well, they are chocolate chip."

"Alright then, fine. Here's your bags for earning cookies." Harry chuckled out as he handed over the plastic bags.

"Thank 'ya kindly Ms. Riddle." Harry just grinned in amusement at the man and began trudging up the stairs.

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Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. Harleen Riddle had been very edgy during the first few meetings she'd had with David Forrestor. Rightly so, too, as he still remembered the terrified look on the woman's face during her attack. So he was very surprised when she extended an invitation to come into her apartment.

Upon first walking into the small apartment, he noticed how nicely it was furnished. It had an elegant dark wooden set of furniture in the living room and a matching small square table set in the kitchen. He was sure the bedroom had the same themed set as well.

The place was clean and had a pleasant smell to it. Overall, he had to give the woman credit for giving such a run-down living area an inviting aura.

"Just set those down on the table there." Harleen pointed to the table in the kitchen as she entered her bedroom.

He heard the click of her door closing. Occupying himself with emptying the bags, he finished up his perusal of the two small rooms.

When he heard the door opening again, he turned and saw Harleen walking out in a very large t-shirt and loose pants. She padded in on bare feet as she tied her hair up in another of her messy buns. He found that he was rather fond of that messy hair of hers.

"Sorry, I never cook in my good work clothes."

He smiled at her as she began pulling out pans to make their dinner with.

"Whatever you're comfortable in. Need any help?"

"Sure. You can cut the carrots." She handed him a cutting board with a knife laying on it.

The preparations were light hearted as they teased each over how they chopped their food.

"You wouldn't happen to be an expert chef on the run or something, would you? Look at how thin those carrot slices are."

"Just because _you_ lack the culinary finesse I've been gifted with, doesn't mean 'ya have ta try findin' somethin' wrong with mine."

Harleen retaliated to this by throwing a piece of onion his way.

He caught it, ate it, and chuckled as Harleen stuck her tongue out at him.

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The dinner came out wonderfully and Harry found himself blushing as David praised him on his cooking skills, all but attacking his food. Harry couldn't say he minded, as the poor man hadn't eaten all day. In fact, he felt very content in that moment.

He could feel the tiny spark of magic in the Muggle sitting across from him now that he'd spent enough time around him. It was a fact that purebloods loved to ignore, but Muggles did in fact have a tiny spark of magic in them. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to extend their life spans and keep them immune to most of the diseases they could succumb to, like their Squib and wizard and witch counterparts. Many purebloods claimed it was all rubbish and that Muggles had no magic in them whatsoever, but Harry knew that to be false.

Harry had the rare ability to sense magic in anything. If there was magic, then he could feel it- so he knew that Muggles did have that tiny bit. When he spent enough time around one he could eventually feel it. With witches and wizards it was instant, much like a slap to the face, depending on how strong their magic was. Squibs were subtler, but it still felt like a limp wristed hit at him. Muggles just tickled a bit when he did finally feel the magic from one.

He'd felt the tickle from David Forrestor a couple of walks back. He remembered stopping to take his bags from David when he felt the tickle that left that giddy feeling in him. Harry knew then that he was safe with the man, for there was no maliciousness there. In fact, quite the opposite. He'd felt protection, bravery, ambition, passion, intelligence, power, possessiveness, and a darker kind of love that only a lucky few would ever get to experience with this man. There was, of course much, more to feel from a person, but there was just so much that went into making an individual who they were that Harry could spend months feeling out David's magical aura.

In the end, Harry knew all he needed to. David Forrestor could be trusted with his and baby Tom's safety. He was still wary, though, as one thing he had felt very strongly was secrets. Many secrets, meaning whomever this man really was, Harry would have to be careful not to get too mixed up in his affairs.

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With the first invitation given, David often found himself calling on Harleen whenever he was in the area. The woman always welcomed him warmly, though sometimes she looked very tired. During those days he would direct her to the very comfortable couch she had and made her a "cuppa", as she called it, though she complained that American tea tasted like "shite".

He just gave amused smiles when she slipped the stronger British words and phrases into their conversations. Sometimes during those visits, she would fall asleep on him at some point. He didn't mind this though, and arranged her comfortably on her couch, which was longer than she was tall. He would cover her with the throw that resided on the back of the couch, then turn out all of the lights before locking the door on his way out. Harleen never mentioned what he did, just smiled at him with that same warm smile and welcomed him in to start all over again.

On her good days when she wasn't tired, she fed him. He found this amusing as she reminded him of another person he knew that fed him very well. Harleen's cooking was truly wonderful, and after one of her meals, he found himself working that little bit harder at night to bash his knuckles into the stomachs and faces of any criminals that were unfortunate enough to be caught by Batman.

He also found himself smiling easily around this woman, who was so kind to a man she barely knew. He hadn't told her a thing about himself and she didn't ask anything about him either. Their conversations flowed smoothly, and sometimes they barely said anything at all verbally, communicating almost completely through other means.

No one noticed David Forrestor like Harleen Riddle did, and while he knew he should be spending more time out on the streets looking out for potential crimes in the making, he couldn't. He needed this too much. A reminder of what he should be fighting for. People like Harleen were whom the Batman fought for. Beautiful people like her. He knew it was more than that though. It was selfish reasons too. He kept coming back to see this woman as a false man, a fake. Would she be this sweet to him if she knew who he _really_ was? He'd like to think so. Liked to think that she would smile that sweetly at Bruce Wayne and Batman, but he'd never know, because she could never know.

So in the end, he continued the cycle, over and over, of visiting the marvelous woman whenever he could. There was just something about her that drew him in. A feeling that she was _something_ more. There was mystery to her, as he'd noticed that while he never asked about her, she also never volunteered information either.

There were a few odd things about the woman, in fact. She always had a choker on when he saw her. Surely she didn't wear one 24-7? There must have been a time when she took it off, but if there was, then he'd never seen her during that time.

Sometimes she swore with the word "Merlin". He never said anything about it, pretended he didn't hear, but he did. He didn't know what to think about it, though.

She didn't have a television set. It wasn't not terribly odd, considering the neighborhood she lived in, but given the quality of her furniture, he believed she could afford it.

She sometimes got a confused look on her face when he talked about newer technology. She knew about older, less recent ones from the last seven years or so, but anything recent she didn't seem to know about. It was almost like she had been away, and had just gotten back to the modern world. Perhaps she'd been visiting a foreign country that hadn't caught up yet? Or maybe had even been on an expedition exploring the jungles and forests of the world. It would explain the lack of knowledge, and she certainly seemed well educated.

Which brought him to his next observation. She was well educated. Speaking with her at length, he realized this was no fool he was with. She was well mannered, she was well spoken, and there were numerous subjects she could converse on at length, he suspected, if he gave her the chance. Her possessions were nice. None of the items she owned looked second hand or shabby. The only thing shabby was the apartment itself.

In short, things didn't add up. Harleen Riddle was too well off and educated to be here due to not having enough funds or enough education for a well paying job. It had to be something else. He wondered if she was running from someone. He needed to know more. Maybe it was time Batman looked into this young woman.

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He'd just gotten off from work and decided to get some groceries. The soup kitchen was nearby and Harry noticed a rather large crowd of people hanging about its entrance- people who definitely weren't homeless. He approached to find out what was going on.

He heard general talking from the crowd. The name Bruce Wayne kept buzzing about, though it didn't mean a thing to Harry, as he had no clue who that was. He didn't bother trying to get through the tightly packed group of people, just waited patiently. Harry only wanted to go in because of one person. David. Harry could feel him inside the soup kitchen.

After waiting for a while, someone started shooing the gathering of people away. Harry backed up even more and gave everyone lots of room. His hands guarded his stomach zealously. Eventually, the crowd cleared, and Harry could see inside the tiny building. His brows furrowed, as he didn't see David anywhere. He could still feel his spark, though. Harry walked in slowly and followed the feeling. None of the poorly dressed men around the tables gave off the feeling. The only one it could be was...

The very well dressed man turning his way.

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Thanks to all the great reviews as always. Since I get so many reviews and messages regarding this story now, I won't be able to address everyone's concerns and questions. If there are questions people ask the most, I will of course answer them.

Many were kind enough to point out that my page breaks weren't showing up. I've gone back and fixed that. Terribly sorry about any confusion this caused. If you ever notice that page breaks aren't in the chapter please tell me! I totally put them in there! I've also been asked about labeling the person's POV. I won't be doing that for a few reasons. I feel the reader should be able to know exactly who's POV they're reading. If they can't, then the author hasn't done a very good job in my opinion. The other main reason is that sometimes I won't want my readers to know who's narrating until later. Mystery you see.

**General Q & A:**

**Q:** Why didn't Harry use magic to stop his attacker? ** A: **As I've mentioned earlier in the story, Harry won't be able to use magic later in his pregnancy, because the magic will be used for the pregnancy. To put it simply, Harry didn't have the ability to stop his attacker with magic. As for physical strength, Harry's always appeared in my mind as painfully thin and petite in stature. I can't really see Harry fighting off a fully grown man whose much bigger than Harry when he's pregnant. Kicking the guy in the nuts just pisses off the man and makes things worse. In fact, I saw a self defense teacher on TV talking about how you never want to hit the guy in the groin, because while it does hurt it also makes them more angry and violent. The suggested action is going for your attacker's throat. Of course, our Harry knows this. Seeing as how he was shoved face first into the wall though, I don't think he had time for that throat chopping move.

**Q: **Will Harry remain dressed as a woman for the entire story? ** A: **Yes, he will. I really can't say more than that without giving away future plot. As for if he'll act feminine, he'll act like Harry. I've always thought of Harry as a kind and loving individual. I certainly don't see those as being strictly feminine traits, but perhaps it'll seem that way to others. There will be times when Harry will HAVE to act feminine, but that'll be more to keep up appearances than anything else. Harry will still be his usual stubborn, passionate and feisty self. Keep in mind though that he's just had his whole world turned upside down by this pregnancy. I don't think it will be too outrageous for him to cry sometimes due to hormones and depression from being away from his friends and family.

**Q:** How will Harry give birth if everyone thinks he's a female?! ** A: **Everyone seems to be freaking out on me with this issue. I assure everyone that I have thought ahead on that, and I've already done a basic outline of this story. Shouldn't be anything for you silly readers to worry about. Now calm down and breath people!

**Q: **Won't people from the wizarding world recognize Tom Riddle's name? **A: **Another question my reader's seem most anxious about. I'm not worried about this issue, as it will be solved by the time Harry sees the wizarding world again. *Walks away whistling without saying another word.*

**Q:** Harry's OOC! You said he wouldn't be!** A:** Right now I do think Harry isn't being his usual self. That's due to several reasons. 1: He just got finished with a war. War has some heavy effects on the survivors and Harry's definitely a survivor. He's seen death for the first time at only 14 years of age! (Not including his parents murder as a baby. Too young to remember vividly after all.) He's continued seeing death during the following years as well, and in my opinion he wasn't given enough time to grieve for any of those people. 2: He died. Sure it wasn't permanent, but dying even a temporary death usually changes a person. Not only that, but he saw another place when he died and saw the man he viewed as a mentor there. The same mentor who basically raised Harry up to be a lamb to the slaughter. It's true Dumbledore probably wasn't plotting this when Harry was only a baby, but he also must have figured out what the scar on Harry's head meant at some point during his Hogwarts years as well. The man had plenty of time for telling Harry. Obviously he wouldn't, because then Harry would have angsted over that and become suicidal or something. All in all, Harry can only feel mixed feelings for the man at that point. 3: He's freaking pregnant with the man who tried to kill him people! How the hell can Harry still be the Harry everyone's gotten used to when he's pregnant! Only something this weird _would_ happen to Harry yes, but if he's got no use of his magic then he goes back to being that same helpless kid that the Dursley's walked all over and treated like shit! I think magic is what gave Harry some of the self confidence he desperately needed, because let's face it, Harry just isn't the big buff typical hero. (*Coughs* Batman *Coughs*) So yes, Harry probably is OOC to many people. To me however, I can see these actions of Harry as being plausible given his current situation.

As always, if anyone can't stand reading this story you can just...you know... _leave_! To the rest of you, I hope all of that answered the majority of your concerns. Thanks for reading!

Angelwarrior1


	5. Chapter 4

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Beta:** blackkat

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**Chapter 4:**

"Mr. Wayne! One more for us!" The flash of light brought Harry out of his shocked stupor.

Mr. Wayne? As in Bruce Wayne, the man everyone outside had been talking about? Who was this and what had happened to David? Harry internally snorted. This obviously was _David_, it was just that David Forrestor was a made-up identity for a rich man. Why the charade though? Harry felt so angry and betrayed and- and- Hurt. He felt hurt by this person, whoever he really was. He couldn't exactly let on that he knew about it either. He couldn't rush up to Bruce Wayne and punch him in the teeth like he wanted to. Couldn't shout all the obscenities running through his mind at the man. Couldn't ask him why- why had he lied like that to Harry of all people? Harry, who always had to be lied to right in the fucking face! Did he have, "Lie to me", stamped on his forehead or something?

The man, Wayne, had noticed him.

'Of course he noticed me, he's been seeing me almost every other night for the past couple of weeks!' Harry's internal voice sounded hysterical, even, to himself.

He must've still been in shock.

The man- Wayne, he reminded himself again- approached him.

"Out of Mr. Wayne's way, woman!" Someone shouted.

Harry vaguely noted it was the same person who cleared away all of the onlookers from earlier.

He would have told her to kiss his arse if he hadn't still been feeling so numb. His eyes just continued to stare at _him_.

"There's no need to be rude. Especially to such a lovely young woman. I'm terribly sorry Miss...?" Harry finally blinked and noticed the concerned look on the tailor-suited man's face.

"Riddle. Harleen Riddle." Harry started softly, cleared his throat, then finished solidly.

'Like you don't know, you fucker!' Harry's mind snarled for him in the absence of his ability to actually utter the words.

"Ah, a pleasure. Bruce Wayne." When Harry reluctantly reached out to shake, Wayne took his hand and kissed the back of it chastely.

Despite Harry's ire at the man, he couldn't help but blush.

"So, what's a beautiful woman like yourself doing here? I hope you're not in need of food for that little one there?" Wayne glanced at the round stomach that Harry was still holding and quirked a brow at the possessive hands.

"I thought a friend of my mine might be in here. I was quite obviously wrong." Harry glared at the lying bastard.

To the man's credit, he didn't even blink at Harry's words.

"And who might that be?" Wayne asked with a very convincing face of the clueless.

"David Forrestor." Harry bluntly stated, eyeing Wayne closely.

"Ah. I don't believe I've seen anyone around here who goes by that name."

Harry clenched his jaw in silent anger. The man wasn't lying, _exactly_, anyways. After all, unless Bruce Wayne had looked into a mirror recently, he wouldn't have seen David Forrestor. It was one of those tricky half-truths that Dumbledore always liked to throw at people.

For the first time, Harry actually felt grateful that he had so much experience with half-truths. It was easier for him to hear the unsaid partial _lies_ as well.

"No, he obviously isn't here right now." Harry mumbled as he looked away from Wayne, who was still staring at him.

"Mr. Wayne, can we _please_ get one last shot? With the young woman there?" Harry glanced wide-eyed over to the photographer, his mind screaming with warning bells.

"Certainly, if it's alright with our mother-to-be here?" Wayne looked at him in question and Harry snarled in defense.

"No, it is _not_ alright with me. I don't come here on a regular basis to eat. I have food of my own at home. I was only here to look for someone and he obviously hasn't been here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going."

"I apologize. I didn't mean for that to come out as offensive to you."

"Yes, well implying that I can't feed my own child is certainly offensive to me Mr. Wayne. And you! Don't even think of snapping that picture or I'll break that bloody camera of yours, understand?" Harry whirled on the cameraman who was lining up a good shot with his camera.

The man paled and nodded furiously at the enraged woman before him, who was actually seriously scary despite his earlier thoughts of her seeming like the gentle type.

'I suppose he's smarter than he looks.' Harry silently observed, as the man rushed off, clutching his precious camera to his chest.

"I should hire you for any press conferences I have in the future." Harry's ears twitched slightly at the sound of Wayne's amused voice behind him.

He turned and glared at the man for all he was worth.

"Ouch. Have I done something unknowingly to gain that kind of look?" Wayne mock winced while looking genuinely curious of Harry's answer.

"I'm sorry. I suppose it's just one of those days. I was so hoping to find my friend here. Instead, I find a circus upon my arrival." Harry sighed out, letting go of his anger momentarily, while gesturing outside the door at where the crowd had once been standing.

It wouldn't due to keep showing such seemingly unnecessary anger towards Bruce Wayne. If he was living a double life, then he was bound to be loads more intelligent than he initially appeared. Harry would definitely be pissed off later in the privacy of his own home, though.

"What kind of friend is he?" Wayne asked in jest, though his eyes seemed to burn intensely at the question.

"Human shaped." Harry deadpanned, keeping his face blank as he thought of all his non-human friends.

He wondered where Buckbeak was at the moment. The feelings of nostalgia and homesickness flooded Harry and he couldn't help the slight cracking of his mask.

"Is something wrong?" A low, concerned timbre brought Harry back into reality.

He looked up to see the worried eyes of his most recent friend in the body of a stranger and yet... he didn't feel so strange to Harry. In that moment, he was simply Harry's friend, whoever that was. The icy anger that sat in Harry's chest melted slightly. No matter the man's reasoning, he would find out who the real man was. He would reserve judgment and hope that his findings while searching David Forrestor's spark were indeed good things, as his gut instinct told him they were.

"No. Everything's fine. Simply thinking. I do hope you won't find me terribly rude, but I really must be going now." Harry looked outside and noticed it was beginning to get dark out.

"Of course. If you'd like, I can give you a ride to your home." Wayne glanced outside as well and frowned at the coming night.

"No, thank you." Harry firmly replied.

"Are you sure? Those streets don't look very friendly." Wayne turned to look at Harry with plain concern on his face.

"I'm well aware of how friendly they are. I'll be fine. Goodbye, Mr. Wayne."

"Have a good night, Ms. Riddle." Bruce once more managed to get a hold of Harry's hand and dropped a polite kiss on the back of it.

'Say what you will about what a lying bastard he is, but the man certainly can be the perfect gentleman.' Harry mused silently in amusement, as he began the walk home.

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Bruce watched as Harleen left and pulled out his cell phone. The other side picked up right away.

"Alfred, bring the car around. I need a change of clothes." A slight upturn of his lip was the only indication of amusement at his words.

"Very good, Sir."

Bruce closed the phone flap and walked outside to wait for Alfred. The woman that was hired to control the crowd of onlookers continued her task as more people flocked now that he was on the sidewalk. He had specified that only one photographer be allowed to film the small event. A news reporter had arrived earlier and done a brief interview. The building wasn't very large, so it wasn't as if it could hold that many people in it. All in all, he felt it had been a success. He was sure Bruce Wayne would come across as a misguided philanthropist, giving out a generous donation while having his picture taken doing so, and seeming arrogant about the whole thing.

He wondered how the press would spin the latest pictures and footage of "Brucie" Wayne. His thoughts were cut off as his car came around the corner and stopped at the curve. Climbing in, he ignored the growing commotion of the crowd, as the person who attracted them in the first place left.

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Black fanned out to his left as his crouching form rested upon the roof corner. His hand raised the small, yet powerful pair of binoculars to his cowled face and he looked into the window across from him at the opposite building. He'd done this before, many times unsuccessfully, since the person inside usually closed their curtains.

This time he was met with victory. His masked eyes took in the graceful form of one Harleen Riddle. He trailed his eyes from head to toe of the close view he had, due to the enhanced sight of the binoculars. He sat patiently, and waited.

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Harry padded softly into his tiny living room and sat down on his large couch. He adored this couch, as it always felt like he was being cuddled by the big, soft cushions. It also helped that it was longer than he was, so he could easily fall asleep there and not worry about any uncomfortable awakenings.

He rubbed at his neck, and the choker that sometimes irritated it. Being overly paranoid usually helped him, but he couldn't stand wearing the fabric at the moment and unfastened it from his throat. His slim, strong fingers massaged the skin. He would have to put some pain cream on it. It paid to stock up in advance and Harry certainly had. There were all kinds of potions and creams from the wizarding world in one of his trunks.

He had, of course, charmed them to shrink and resize with only a spoken word. In fact, he'd placed that same charm on all of his things, as it made packing up and leaving a whole lot simpler. He was glad he hadn't needed to use the spell on anything but some of his trunks, which were in his bedroom.

Being away from magic was hard on him. When he had been a child, he had wondered many times why he existed. It was plain the Dursley's cared nothing for him, so he never understood why they kept him. They could have easily left him somewhere, yet they were always dragging him back at the last moment. He remembered wishing to be abandoned sometimes, but he always got scared when it looked like it would actually happen. Then there would be a hand, grabbing him by the shoulder, arm, or back of his neck, and pulling him away. The hand was always large in his memory. Bony, or mammoth in feel, and he was frightened of both. They felt horrible.

Harry blinked and snapped out of his bleak thoughts. He did miss it, magic. Magic gave him a life, a purpose. With purpose came burden, however, as upon entering a new world and escaping the other, he learned what these new people were willing to sacrifice. They were all so scared, hiding behind him as he tried to catch up and figure out all the ins and outs of the odd place in which he found himself living in.

Hogwarts was the only place he could ever honestly say felt like a home to him. To be so far from it now, where he should have been at that very moment- he was certain Hermione would throttle him soundly if she ever found him. She had pestered him gently about returning for his last year and eventually he'd caved and said that he would go back.

That was before, though. Before he knew that he was once more the abnormal one. Why did he think that life would suddenly become normal for him? What _was_ normal for Harry Potter? Was it the standard all other people lived by, or was it something only he could have? A different kind of normal, that was only achievable by those who weren't of the ordinary? Resting his hand on his now rather large stomach, he decided that normal just wouldn't be the same for him as it was for everyone else.

He was going to give birth to Tom Riddle, after all. That was hardly normal by any stretch of the imagination. Gently, he lifted the fabric of his shirt softly above his unborn child and stroked his hand over the stretched skin.

He hummed quietly to his child and eventually lay back, humming until he fell asleep with his hand resting on the exposed roundness.

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He had been understandably shocked at first, upon seeing the exposed neck. Batman wasn't one to deny the truth, however, and filed away the view of a slightly-less-than-obvious Adam's Apple. So that explained the choker. What wasn't explained was the fact that if what he was seeing was, in fact, a man pretending to be a woman, how in the hell was he pregnant?

Past conversations and actions flowed in through his mind. All the odd quirks, like the phrases that sometimes slipped out. He knew they were slips because "Harleen" would shoot little looks at him after, as if he would call the young- man- out on the weird thing he'd just said. One word in particular caught his attention. Merlin- Harleen had said that word as one would if they were speaking of God or any other religious figure. It was always said very quietly, as if he never meant to utter it, but couldn't help it.

Many things pointed to Harleen being from another world, another culture. The lack of knowledge on the latest technology, for instance. Then there were the odd phrases. Even some of the objects in Harleen's home didn't look right. He recalled one occasion where he was looking at a very unique chess piece placed on Harleen's small mantle, and he swore he'd caught movement out of the corner of his eye the second he'd turned away. At the time he'd simply thought it was himself being overly paranoid, but now he played that scene over in his mind again from a different perspective. If magic were indeed real, then it would explain many of Harleen's actions- and also the whole pregnancy thing, his mind provided with twisted humor.

He would have to look into it, and play his role as David Forrestor carefully. He was nearly done scoping out the entire neighborhood as David, and it wouldn't do to have his patiently crafted persona ruined by one person.

Finished with his surveillance for the night, he put away the tiny binoculars and shot a grapple line off into the darkness, dropping from the corner ledge only a few seconds after and gliding away. The slight flutter of a cape the only sound heard after the initial grapple shot went off.

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Harry had continued seeing various doctors and having the growing Tom checked on a regular basis. Today was an appointment day, and as Harry once again spoke the charm activation on his black beaded bracelet he always wore, the same Confunded look came over the doctor's face.

He ignored any feelings of guilt that dully rose in him as he stared unwaveringly at the screen that showed Tom, his little Tom.

Harry knew it was practically courting disaster to even think of giving Tom the same name, but it felt wrong to think of him as any other title. He wasn't a Dark Lord anymore, and certainly not Voldemort. Harry wasn't sure how much of a soul this child would have, but it would much more than Voldemort had possessed at the end of their long war.

At this point, he could only do his very best, as it was far too late to change his mind about having Tom now. He'd grown attached, feeling some semblance of a bond growing with the little life inside him. Most would probably accuse the pregnancy of infecting him, clouding his mind and judgment. He could only scoff at the mere notion.

He was fine. They were fine.

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It had taken a few days to track down any leads that could help him resolve the reality of magic, but when he did, he found himself traveling far from Gotham to meet with a man who wasn't frightened of telling him the secrets of his kind. Always wary of potential traps, he was very guarded during their first meeting.

"You have traveled a long way, Mr. Batman. Why do you seem so convinced of the existence of true magic?" The old man looked at him with tired, yet wise eyes.

"Because I have seen enough evidence that points to the conclusion that magic can only be real. What do you know about the existence of magic?" Batman questioned the seated man.

"Oh, I know many things about magic. I know that it has existed for thousands of years. I know that some magic is very old and some is very young. I know that nothing is impossible with magic. I wonder, however, how much you know? What would you like for me to tell you about?" The brown eyes sparked briefly, as if lit by an inner fire.

"Male pregnancy. Is it possible?"

"Male pregnancy? Where on earth would you have found a pregnant wizard?" The eyes widened and the old man leaned forward.

"Never mind that, is it possible?" Batman growled menacingly at the old male.

He had yet to confirm whether the old man was a wizard himself.

"Yes, it is possible. Only in those of great magical strength. You'll forgive me for being excessively curious, but you are sure you have found a pregnant wizard?" The man's eyes held such hope in them.

"I've not concluded that fact yet. There's still some investigating I need to do. This has helped. Tell me, is there anything else I should know about powerful wizards?"

"Oh, there is much indeed." The eyes lit once more.

Over the course of the next few days, Batman returned and listened to several things the old man revealed about powerful wizards. One thing made the paranoid part of him rear up.

"They can sense magic in anything and _anyone_? You mean other magic users?"

"I mean anyone, Muggles, Squibs, wizards and witches. It doesn't matter. A powerful magic wielder can sense every human's unique signature of life magic that allows us humans to live."

"Muggles, those are the humans who can't wield magic. Can a powerful wizard sense them right away?"

"Oh no, not without prolonged contact. If a Muggle meets a powerful wizard only once then they have nothing to worry about. If they are friends who see these wizards on a regular basis, however, then they do have something to worry about."

"Is there a way to mask the signature?"

"There are a few spells one can use. Some hit wizards and witches in the past have cast a permanent spell on themselves that masks them from everyone. For Squibs and Muggles, they can have the spell cast on them or have an object charmed that they must keep on their persons."

"Where can I get an object charmed, and how will I know if it worked?"

"There is a test that is done after the charm has been cast. If it has been cast successfully, the person or object will glow a soft purple when a testing stone is held near the subject. If it has not been done correctly, the glow will be blue. As for where you can have yourself or an object charmed, I can do that right now. It only takes a moment."

Batman eyed the old wizard, as was now confirmed, and thought over everything he'd learned. He wasn't sure if he believed the man's test explanation. He knew he wouldn't be having any spells cast on him though. He supposed he would have to trust the old man with this at least.

"Why have you helped me so far? If magic isn't widely known about now, that can only mean that it's a worldwide secret. Won't you be in trouble for revealing so much to a Muggle?"

"Mr. Batman, I have been around for a very long time now. I am old and I am tired. I am not frightened by today's witches and wizards, because they are not as powerful as their past counter parts used to be. So, to me, there is no threat from the modern witch and wizard. There are, of course, the exceptions. Your wizard for instance, could easily cause me trouble once he gains the use of his magic again. As for you, I have heard much about you, Mr. Batman. I understand that you do not kill. It would be much easier for you to kill the majority of the criminals you capture, wouldn't it? No more trouble with them in the future?"

"Easier maybe, but not right. Killing isn't the message people should be encouraged to think is justified." Batman growled lowly in disgust.

The old man nodded, looking pleased.

"Well then, what object would you have me charm for you, Mr. Batman?"

Batman checked his belt compartments. Inside one, he found a penny with a hole in it. He'd forgotten he still had it. One night, while out on patrol, he'd found it on a rooftop. It was so unique that he'd pocketed it and just went on with his business. He handed the penny over to the old man, who looked at it curiously.

"My, such an interesting coin. I wonder how it got that hole in it? Well, no matter. A curious pick, Mr. Batman." The old wizard spoke as he started waving his hand over the coin.

Eventually the wizard stopped his hand movements and spoke a few words, in what Batman figured out was Latin. Soon he quieted and took the coin over to the testing object he'd spoken of earlier. Holding out the penny to the dull stone sitting on a table, the penny began to glow soft purple.

"Ah, success! Here you are, Mr. Batman."

"Thank you." Batman nodded his head to the wizard and turned, to signal his departure.

"I do hope things work out with your wizard, Mr. Batman." The old man said in farewell, as Batman jumped out of his window and glided away.

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Initially, Harry had done his best to ignore all the media around him. At the stores, he never bothered looking at the newspapers or tabloids. He'd gotten rather turned off to any kind of news due to the wizarding world.

Only after meeting Bruce Wayne did he realize what a mistake that had been. He ventured to a nearby public library and looked up all that he could about Bruce Wayne. What he learned about the man wasn't very encouraging. Apparently, the man was a terrible womanizer. There were barely any photos of the man without a different female hanging on him. There were also articles that depicted him as clueless, stupid and arrogant. Then there were the few that showed how careless and reckless he could be, as he read over the one article about his estate burning down.

Overall, the descriptions of character for Bruce Wayne didn't match up at all from what he'd gathered by the spark reading. The only conclusion he could clearly see was that Bruce Wayne was deliberately painting a terrible image of himself for the press. Why do something like that though? Did it have something to do with his charade as David Forrestor? Why the secret identity? The only thing Harry could make of it so far was that Bruce Wayne used David Forrestor as a way of escaping the public eye, if only temporarily. As for the act from Wayne, maybe he just wanted to be underestimated by all of his business rivals.

That was the only theory Harry could think of at the moment, given the evidence. He'd have to continue keeping an eye on the two sides of the man to see if anything telling was shown, however.

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He hadn't been able to play his role of David Forrestor for a number of days, due to his trip, but when he returned he dealt with any business Bruce Wayne needed to attend to. He then promptly took on the homeless man's part.

He went to see Harleen Riddle right away. He didn't bother wearing the new charm; only Batman would be using it. If there was any possibility of Harleen knowing he was Bruce Wayne, the only indicator he'd gotten so far was the hostility shown to Bruce Wayne. Unfortunately, that wasn't much to go on, as many people were hostile to the rich man on the first meeting. He would need to watch the young man closely, to see if he acted any differently towards David.

Upon arriving at Harleen's door, he rang the bell once and waited. The door opened a few moments later and he looked down into green eyes that lit up once the owner realized who it was before them.

"Mr. Forrestor! Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a few days. I do hope everything's alright."

"Sorry 'bout that Ms. Riddle. I didn't mean ta scare 'ya there. I kinda got busy helpin' a few of the locals out with little thangs. The days just seemed ta fly by without me even noticin' I was supposed to visit 'ya." He watched his reaction carefully, but if the young man didn't believe him, he was very good at concealing his disbelief.

"Well, I'm certainly glad you remembered me eventually. Please, come in. Have you been too busy to eat today?" Harleen teased as he walked over to the refrigerator and opened it.

It looked like he would be feeding him regardless of his answer.

"I could never forget _you_, Ms. Riddle. I ate this mornin', could stand to eat some of your wonderful food though." He walked in, hands in his pockets as usual, and took a seat at the kitchen table.

"My, so much flattery this afternoon. I assure you I'm not angry over your absence, simply worried." Harleen stood with his back to him, so he couldn't make out what the young man's face showed at the moment.

"I really didn't mean ta worry 'ya, Ms. Riddle." David replied.

He did genuinely feel a bit guilty for just disappearing on the man.

From what he had noticed so far, Harleen Riddle didn't have contact with anyone but him. David Forrestor was essentially Harleen Riddle's only source of human interaction. To take that away, even if only for a few days, seemed a bit cruel on his part.

It had been necessary, though, as the information Batman had gotten was vitally important. He had a strong hunch that this young man in front of him was a very powerful wizard, indicated by the fact that he was pregnant. The only thing Batman needed to know now was if "Harleen Riddle" meant harm to anyone, or if he was simply in hiding. If he was in hiding, Batman needed to know who was after the wizard, and who would frighten a wizard powerful enough to get pregnant in the first place.

He tuned out the rest of his Batman thoughts, confining that part of his brain to simply filing away anything he noticed during the visit that could be important for later analysis. The visit reminded him of why he so enjoyed coming in the first place.

Harleen was just as polite and welcoming as usual. The bright green eyes were animated and lively as they talked about nothing in particular.

They even spoke on ridiculous things that he normally wouldn't bother participating in.

"If you were trapped in an elevator with a lion, what would you do?"

"Why would I be trapped in an elevator with a lion? How did the lion even get inta the elevator?" David raised an eyebrow in doubt of their wacky conversation.

"I don't know, maybe the zoo keeper forgot to lock his cage and the lion was curious about elevators."

"Why would a lion be curious about elevators?"

"Maybe he walked by a building and saw people going into them, and then disappearing. Maybe he just wanted to know where all the humans were going."

"So he decided to find out by goin' himself? That's not a very smart lion."

"No, perhaps not, but a brave one. Well?"

"I think I would notice if a lion was in an elevator, so I wouldn't enter the darn thang."

"And if the lion was invisible?"

"How'd he get invisible?!" David couldn't help the laughter that spilled out.

"Because he found an invisibility cloak of course." Harleen smiled widely, eyes dancing with mischief.

"Or course. I really can't say what I'd do it that situation Ms. Riddle. I'd probably wet myself and pass out." His mind was already running through a solution to the scenario, grapple line around the legs, tie the mouth shut and remove the invisibility cloak, exit through the top of the elevator.

"Somehow, I don't think that's what your reaction would really be Mr. Forrestor. You don't strike me as the overly frightened type." Harleen watched him intently from over the rim of his mug.

"Well, given the outlandish scenario you just gave me-"

"Outlandish?! Have you noticed where we live Mr. Forrestor? This entire city is outlandish. You only need walk outside to witness a caped man running about fighting criminals."

"Batman, you mean." David wondered what Harleen's opinion of the masked vigilante was.

"Yes, him."

"Do 'ya think he's as crazy as everyone says?" Sharp blue eyes stared unwaveringly at the face of the man across from him.

"I don't think anyone but the man himself can really know that. After all, it's not as if anyone can just walk up to him and ask for his life story, or why he does what he does."

"How do 'ya even know he's a man? There have been rumors that it's a creature."

"Yes, a creature that ties up criminals rather than eating them. I think if it were a creature, it most likely wouldn't have any qualms about killing the crooks he finds. A simple man is a bit more boring for people to believe, which is why I think the rumors persist. I myself find it more extraordinary that it _is_ a simple man, rather than a creature. A creature has all the weapons it needs naturally given to him. A man has to fashion his own. How does this man carry everything he could ever anticipate needing? He seems to travel with light armor. Perhaps on his belt?" Harleen's eyes grew distant, as if remembering something.

David could easily guess what, too.

"'Ya speak as if 'ya actually seen him."

Harleen snapped out of his thoughts and looked his way. He was silent for a bit and David thought maybe he'd gone too far.

"I did see him. Once. I was walking home from the store. I didn't have any food here, so I had to stop. A man that used to live here, he must have been waiting for me. He'd been watching me from the day I moved into this place. I wasn't expecting him to actually act upon his rather obvious desires, though. I couldn't get him off of me, since he was a very large man. Then he was suddenly gone. Batman had pulled him from me. He saved my baby. He saved me. I probably wouldn't be here right now if he hadn't shown up, so I don't care if he is insane. Better to be insane and help others than be insane and cause harm to others." During his tale, Harleen looked down at his enlarged stomach and placed his hands on top of it.

David didn't say anything to Harleen's story and the young wizard was silent as well. The rest of that visit was spent in silent companionship, as both minds drifted to other thoughts that were oddly attuned to the same subjects.

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It was one of Harleen's tired days. He noticed the young man nodding off about halfway through their usual visit. It didn't take long for Harleen to fall asleep completely once he quieted and silence took the room.

Soon he found himself going about the same routine he always went through. He laid Harleen out on the couch and almost rose, when he noticed the young man's throat. The choker was there as usual, and he couldn't help but move it slightly down so he could see the undeniable proof up close.

There it was, just as he'd seen through his binoculars. A smaller-than-normal Adam's Apple. He refrained from touching it, not wanting to wake the sleeping pregnant man. He was staring at a medical marvel and all he could do was leave, lest Harleen wake up and ask what he was doing.

Eventually he did leave, the quiet clicking of the door shutting the only indication he had been there.

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More and more, Harry noticed the differences between Bruce Wayne the playboy and David Forrestor the homeless man. He eventually gave in and bought a television, wanting to keep up on the news of Gotham.

During these news broadcasts, he would sometimes see glimpses of Bruce Wayne. The glimpses usually weren't good, as they always showed off how unorganized and downright dumb Bruce Wayne seemed to be.

His visits with David Forrestor always disproved those views, however, as the man constantly carried nearly flawless conversations with him. Harleen Riddle seemed to be the only one blessed with these peeks into the intelligence of the man. Sometimes, Harry felt like he'd met another Tom Riddle, as the man was always presenting a different side of himself.

Harry knew manipulation when he saw it, had been around it much too long not to. While Bruce Wayne and David Forrestor both manipulated people, the man behind both masks just didn't seem to have any malicious intent like Tom Riddle did. In fact, the man seemed to care very much about others, even if it wasn't obvious.

Bruce Wayne often gave glorious amounts of money to charity, but often no one paid attention to that fact because they were so busy noticing the mistakes and overall foolishness of said man.

Harry saw it, though, every time he watched any charity events on the news. Bruce Wayne never gave money to the useless causes, only the truly deserving ones. David Forrestor couldn't do much in the way of money, but he was always helping Harry out whenever he could.

Overall, the man was a mystery, and mysteries were what Harry thrived on. He craved good mysteries and Bruce Wayne certainly was a huge one.

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The doorbell rang, as was expected, and Harry went to open it. Upon opening the door, Harry was surprised when something green and leafy obstructed his view.

"Uh, Hello, Mr. Forrestor. What is that you have there?"

"Oh! Sorry 'bout that." The green was lowered and Harry could see a slightly blushing David standing there.

"No problem, but what's with the... broccoli?" Harry raised a brow and looked to David for an explanation.

"And asparagus. I got them with the extra money I earned during my absentee days. Figured I may as well get 'ya these to make up for the visits I missed." David seemed to be uncharacteristically embarrassed as he held out the, well, bouquet, as that was what it looked like.

Harry had to give the man points for originality, as he'd never even heard of, let alone seen, a vegetable bouquet.

"Well, they're a lovely shade of green. Thank you, Mr. Forrestor. Come in, please." Harry turned and took the green bouquet to his refrigerator, where he stored it for later use.

"Thank 'ya, Ms. Riddle."

"So, the usual coffee, I take it?" Harry turned around and was glad to see the man back to normal.

As amusing and, dare he say, boyishly cute, as an embarrassed David Forrestor was, Harry didn't want the man to be uncomfortable.

"That'd be great, Ms. Riddle."

Harry finished the usual preparations and brought David his coffee.

"Thanks, Ms. Riddle." David smiled at Harry through his ratty beard.

"You know, we've known each other for almost a month now. I think it's safe to say, that such formal titles can be done away with at this point."

David lowered his mug from his mouth and gave Harry a hard look of scrutiny that left him feeling just a bit squirmy. After a few seconds went by, David simply smiled again and went back to his coffee.

"Well then, I'll be sure 'ta take 'ya up on that offer and extend one of my own. Feel free 'ta call me David, Harleen." David stared at Harry over the rim of his mug.

Harry shivered unexpectedly at the lowering of David's voice as he used Harry's pseudo-name.

Harry wasn't sure what to expect out of this oddly formed friendship with the man of two identities, but he was certain that it would be just as interesting as any of his wizard-based ones. Harry smiled at David and the visit was spent with quiet conversation, interspersed with silent comfort.

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Thanks for all of the spectacular reviews, everyone! I really got this one done quickly due to all of the encouragement. As the 4th of July is coming up soon, I figured I would get this posted before everyone heads off on vacation. Hope it was worth the wait!

Angelwarrior1


	6. Chapter 5

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Beta:** blackkat

**Chapter 5:**

"Ow!" Harry watched as several drops of blood welled out of the cut on his index finger.

"Harleen?! Are you okay?!" David rushed over.

Seeing Harry's injury, he took the cloth Harry used to dry the dishes and applied it to the cut finger.

"This looks pretty bad. 'Ya sure you're okay?" David looked to Harry with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Harry pulled his hand away from the cloth and went into his bathroom to get some bandaging and antiseptic.

When he came back out, David had moved over to the table. David took the supplies from Harry and wrapped his hand.

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The penny twirled on the steel table as Batman hit it with an electrical blast. While he was hesitant to have accepted the charmed item in the first place from the old man, Batman knew opportunity when he saw it. If a certain stone that determined if the charmed object was still in effect or not also happened to have gone missing, well, the old man really should have had better security set up.

Being overly paranoid had its uses as Batman studied the penny and tried to figure out if there was a technological way to cancel out magic. If he could generate some kind of field, then he wouldn't need any charmed objects from unknown wizards. Obviously, he only planned to use this for himself, as it could have catastrophic effects on the world of magic if it was discovered.

Batman set the device up to emit a new electrical frequency as he pulled out the small vial that held a tiny amount of blood in it. He'd gotten very lucky with Harleen cutting himself earlier, though it was unfortunate that the young man was hurt. At least the blood would be put to use.

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The room was dark. Harry looked up at the cracked ceiling as he lay resting on the bed, hands on his now large stomach. He was entering his sixth month, though according to the Confunded doctor he'd last seen he looked to be around eight months.

He rubbed his stomach as he closed his eyes and tried to take a nap. The kicking from Tom wasn't going to let that happen, however, so Harry just enjoyed lying on the soft bed. A sudden noise forced Harry's eyes to pop open. It sounded almost like... scratching. Where such a sound could have come from Harry had no clue, but a bad feeling started to pool into his entire being as it continued.

Then he felt it; the wards on his apartment door had just expired, and a man with a mask on his face entered not a moment after.

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David ambled on his usual way to pay a visit to Harleen, he hoped he wasn't in a tired mood. Climbing the stairs to the young man's apartment, he knocked and waited for Harleen to let him in. He frowned when the door didn't open and he didn't hear any noise coming from inside.

He knew Harleen was there, they'd established a rhythm to their visits as he figured out Harleen's work schedule. He tried knocking again when there still wasn't any sound.

His worry increased as there weren't any approaching steps, nor any usual Harleen noises telling him to hold on. He was about to pull out his lock pick set when the door suddenly opened a crack.

"Yes?" One of Harleen's green eyes peeked out at him from behind the door.

"Harleen? Is everythin' alright in there?" He scrutinized Harleen with a keen eye.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm afraid something's come up though and we won't be able to have our usual visit."

"Oh? Wish you woulda told me that before. Came all this way ta see 'ya." David adopted a disappointed expression as he watched the partial face before him avidly for anything telling.

Warning bells went off in his mind when Harleen tried to appear sorry, but only showed worry. It was the fright in the young man's one visible eye that tipped David off that something was terribly wrong.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to visit another time. I have to get back to what I was occupied with." Harleen went to shut the door, but David leaned his weight against it.

"Wait, can I come over tomorrow?" David had to keep Harleen talking just a little bit longer until he could figure out what the hell he was supposed to do.

"I don't think that would be best. I must go now." Harleen said insistently.

"Ok." David uttered quietly as Harleen didn't pause to wait for his answer, the door already shutting in his face.

Scenarios ran quickly through David's mind as Batman-mode reared its head. He couldn't change anywhere nearby, too open and risky with the daylight. Too many people around the alleys. There wasn't a public bathroom near the building either. He would have to pick the lock as he'd originally planned, and take on whoever it was on the other side of that door as David.

Hopefully it wasn't someone Harleen was on the run from. He didn't think there was much he could do as David. He didn't imagine Batman was ready to take on a magic user at that point in time, either.

Crouching down, he pulled out his small kit and worked quickly to unlock the door. He quietly turned the knob and cracked the door the tiniest bit open, to make sure he hadn't tipped off whoever was inside that someone was coming in.

He was in luck; the living room was empty. His insides turned cold as he heard yelling start in Harleen's bedroom. Quietly he went in, crouched and ready to spring into action.

Something flew out the room and landed on the floor.

"Where is it?! Huh?!" David could feel rage flare up as the sound of a few smacks went off inside the room.

"Where is what?!" Harleen's tense voice answered back hotly.

He didn't sound hurt, just pissed. David couldn't help but smirk grimly.

"The money bitch! I know you got some, seen the nice shit you had moved here."

David had to tamp down on the growl that wanted to emerge when he heard more sounds of flesh hitting flesh.

"Why the hell would I have money lying around the apartment, you dumb bastard?!" Harleen snarled back.

"Dumb bastard, am I?! I'll show you who's dumb, you bitch!" David peered around the edge as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

The man was tall, pretty large; He'd be able to take him believably enough. The guy was much larger than Harleen, though, and David could see why he hadn't put up much of a struggle.

The fist sailed through the air and caught the pregnant man in the cheek; The black ink of Harleen's tied hair flew from its confines and settled messily around his turned head.

Harleen turned back quickly and let out a strangled screech of rage, suddenly lunging up and scratching at the man's face with his rather long nails. David knew this would be his best chance now, while the man's back was turned and he was occupied.

The man screamed in pain and slammed Harleen away from him, scrabbling for something tucked into the back of his pants.

David's eyes widened as he was approaching from behind the robber.

"You fucking little slut!"

Harleen looked up, pain from the blow he'd taken to the face clear in his expression.

"I'm gonna fucking blow a hole in that stomach of yours, you slut. Is that why you're here, huh? Too much of a whore? Nobody want 'ya anymore?! Huh? Well, maybe I'll just use you for myself then!"

"Stay away from me!" Harleen shouted suddenly, David could tell he was flashing back to the alley.

He had to end this now. David leapt onto the man, while grabbing the hand holding the gun.

"What the-?!" The man shouted in surprise and started struggling.

David grunted when his back was slammed into something sharp. The two fell out of the bedroom, David still holding tightly onto the hand with the gun. He started slamming the hand into anything he could in order to get the man to drop it. The man eventually screamed and the heavy thud of metal reached his ears. With the gun handled he let go of the guy's hand and moved from his back.

The robber screamed in rage and David felt a sharp sting on his face as his beard was yanked, but he ignored it as he delivered a couple of punches to the guy's stomach. Finally, David landed one more to his face and the man dropped with a big thud.

After he tied the man up with some rope and whatever else he could find that looked strong enough, David staggered over to the bedroom to tend to Harleen.

"Harleen?" He watched in concern as Harleen didn't move from where he was curled up on the bed, where he had been left.

The green eyes were unblinking; whatever thoughts were going through that mind of his couldn't be good.

David walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He reluctantly placed his hand on Harleen's and was surprised when the young man suddenly let out a shuddering breath and slumped over to rest his head on David's shoulder.

David looked him over with worried eyes and wrapped an arm around the very still man. Other than breathing, Harleen wasn't moving. They couldn't stay here, though; This place wasn't good for Harleen. The young man had been attacked twice since his arrival in Gotham, and unfortunately, David was sure it wouldn't be the last time if Harleen decided to stay longer after the baby was born.

"Harleen? Come on honey, say somethin'. S'not right when 'ya don't talk. Too quiet when you're not going on about somethin' or 'nother."

God, he sucked at cheering people up. David's lips thinned and his stubborn streak flared up in him.

"Let's get your pretty face looked at here, hmm? Can't have you goin' out with blood on 'ya." David gently took hold of Harleen's face and looked at the damage that was done.

Just then, he wished murder weren't so illegal. A split lip, what looked to be the beginning of some very bad swelling on the young man's left cheek, and some swelling around his left eye too.

"I'll just go get some bandages and ice for 'ya." David left for the supplies, but knew he would have to call the police.

Unfortunately, he and Harleen would have to talk to them. He wasn't worried for himself, David Forrestor had his papers all in order. No, he was worried for Harleen. The man wasn't even speaking to David, so he doubted he would talk to the police. Well, if it came down to it, he would just have to do most of the talking.

He dialed up the police as he got a zip lock bag for the ice. Someone came on and he spoke with them briefly as he grabbed a cloth to wrap the bag in. He hung up after it was confirmed someone would be over soon and got the bandages on his way back to the bedroom.

David sat back down and lightly pressed the ice to Harleen's now nasty-looking cheek bruise. Harleen's dull green eyes moved slowly to look at him and suddenly his eyes widened.

"Oh, sweet Merlin."

"What?" David frowned in confusion at the look he was receiving.

Harleen's hand suddenly snatched at something on his face and pain bloomed in his jaw and lower cheeks.

"What the fuck are 'ya doin'?!" He hollered in pain and shock.

"I could ask you the bloody same Bruce Wayne!" Harleen shouted in rage.

David, no, Bruce froze at the name Harleen addressed him with. His eyes shot up at the ragged looking beard Harleen was holding up in one hand.

"I can explain-"

"You damn well better!"

"Please calm down. All that shouting can't be good for you or the child you're carrying."

Harleen took a few deep breaths. After a few moments went by, he opened his angry green eyes and glared at Bruce.

"Explain. Now!" The young man ordered severely, with a slight growl.

Bruce sighed and began his explanation.

"As Bruce Wayne, I have a lot of responsibility. A company to run, a vast amount of wealth that must not be squandered recklessly, but invested wisely for future generations of the Wayne family. Then of course, there's the press to deal with. Sometimes I feel the need to just get away for a while, be someone else. Surely you wouldn't begrudge me some small amount of anonymity?" Bruce looked up and met Harleen's eyes.

"No. I wouldn't begrudge anyone something so small, yet so meaningful." Harleen's eyes held understanding as he reached over and placed the beard back in Bruce's hand.

The green eyes suddenly widened as the sound of a cop car's siren went off at the bottom of the apartment building. The two men simply stared at one another for a moment.

Suddenly a flurry of motion was going on and both of them scrambled up.

"Do you have glue, tape, anything that'll hold this?!" Bruce nearly shouted as he ran into the bathroom.

"Yes! I should have some glue right here!" Harleen's panicked voice filtered into the tiny bathroom from the kitchen area.

Harleen rooted through the drawer filled with nothing he actually needed right then. He slammed the drawer in frustration and yanked open another one. Just as he was about to shout out in triumph that he'd found it, he heard the creaking of the front door.

"Hello?! Everyone alright in here?!" A police officer entered and looked around, before his eyes landed on Harleen.

Harleen turned around, hiding the glue behind his back.

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'Shite! Rotten luck strikes again.' Harry thought grimly, his heart racing.

"Yes. We're fine." Harry turned and grabbed a zip lock to fill with ice. He wrapped it in a dishtowel, hiding the glue in the cloth.

"Where's the man who called? Said he fought this guy here?" He tapped the downed robber with the toe of his shoe, who was out cold.

"He's in the restroom. I'll get him." Harry rushed over to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

It opened a crack and Harry shoved the ice pack in.

"Here's the ice you wanted."

"What?! I didn't ask for-!" Bruce sent him a bewildered look.

"Would you quiet down, you bloody moron?! Just use the damn ice." Harry whispered back harshly and yanked the door shut.

He walked over to the cop who was looking around at the damage.

"The bedroom is where most of it took place." Harry spoke quietly as he eyed the downed man warily.

"He sure got 'ya, didn't he?" The officer took in the damage to Harry's face.

Harry cringed and nodded reluctantly. He was still angry at how helpless he'd felt during the attack. He'd had to be saved, _again_. He really couldn't wait to have his magic back. Being as small as he was, he was virtually useless in a physical fight. He'd had some training in hand to hand combat during the summer before his sixth year. Dumbledore had arranged it to try and get his mind off of Sirius. It had worked a bit, but Harry was still distracted and depressed by the man's death for a long time. Even now, the pain still lingered.

Right now, though, that didn't matter. His stomach got in the way of any fighting he could do. Harry felt like a small tank running around with Tom growing inside of him.

The officer went into the bedroom to take a look at the damage and whistled at the open dresser drawers and smashed knick-knacks on the floor.

Harry was just grateful he didn't keep anything magical in his dressers. The heavy magical items were all in his trunks. Some of the decorative things that now graced the floor in pieces were magical and would fix themselves when he spoke the word he'd set for them. He nudged at the head of the black knight chess piece that lay on the floor with the toe of his shoe. It was no longer animated and just sat there.

"Sorry it took me so long. Bastard put up one hell of a fight." Harry and the officer turned to the bearded man Harry could now only think of as Bruce.

Bruce was holding the ice pack Harry had shoved at him on his hand, which did have some nasty bruising.

"That's fine. Now, let's go over what happened here, eh?"

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Bruce closed the door as the officer finally left, lugging the once-more conscious prisoner with him, who took perverse pleasure in saying nasty things about Harleen.

The man was just lucky the officer was there.

He sighed and went over to the bedroom doorway to look at Harleen, who was standing in front of the window with his arms crossed over his chest.

Bruce took it for the vulnerable stance it was and moved to stand behind him a few steps back.

"It's not safe here for you anymore." Bruce uttered quietly, not wanting to startle the young man.

"And where would you suggest I go?" Harleen sighed.

"I know you don't know me very well, and you've just found out I've been more than a little dishonest with you, but you're welcome to come stay with me for as long as you'd like." Bruce was surprised with the amount of nervousness he felt as he gave that suggestion.

Harleen spun around and looked at him in shock.

"You would invite me into your own home? You barely know anything about me."

"I know that you're a good person; you've been very kind to me. You could have revealed me to that police officer, yet you didn't. Let me help you."

"I am... reluctant to leave this place." Harleen bit his bottom lip and looked down.

"It's too dangerous for you to live alone, Harleen. What if you need medical assistance? You are getting further into your pregnancy after all." Bruce stated softly, but firmly.

"I-I know. I just... it's embarrassing. You'll think I'm being silly."

"I promise I won't. Please, just tell me."

"I... I like this place. I've formed so many happy memories here, most of which were with you." Harleen's cheeks reddened as Bruce smiled softly at the admission.

Bruce felt a warmth he'd come to associate only with Harleen flare up inside of him. This young man made him feel so oddly sometimes.

"You know, my home doesn't hold too many happy memories for me. I could really use some help with forming a few." Bruce teased gently.

Harleen didn't answer right away. He seemed to be struggling to reach a decision, and Bruce let him have the time he needed to make one.

"Well... I suppose I could help with just a few." Harleen finally looked up and smiled shyly.

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The moving process took a bit longer since Harry, not wanting anyone to see all the magic shit he had laying about his apartment, asked that he have some time to say goodbye to his tiny dwelling alone.

Bruce had looked at him oddly for that, but eventually complied and left to arrange for movers and such.

Harry wanted to tell Bruce that movers weren't necessary, that he could just shrink all of his things and leave right away. Instead, he had just nodded tiredly to the mention of movers.

He packed all of his magical items in his trunks, then went about putting everything away into some cardboard boxes he'd had to buy to pack. Eventually he was finished, but he was very grumpy by that point. Really, it would have been so easy to pack with magic, but instead he had to deal with doing everything the Muggle way. He was more than ready for food and rest by the time he was done.

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Bruce was, understandably, a bit nervous about Harleen coming home with him. He'd been filling Alfred in on the strange young man he'd met and his suspicions, so he didn't need to explain anything to the man, but what if they didn't get along?

He knew that was silly, as Harleen had been nothing but kind since Bruce had met the young man. Personalities sometimes clashed, however, so he still couldn't shake the anxiety he felt.

Eventually they made it home, the movers would be going to pick up Harleen's furniture and boxes the next day and taking them to the mansion. Bruce had come for Harleen in one of his more inconspicuous cars and they'd gone on to the manor. He stepped out first, then got the door for the now large-bellied young man, offering two hands to help Harleen out.

A shy smile was his thanks, and he found it better than any spoken words.

"Alfred! I'm home!" He called out upon entering.

"Welcome home, Master Bruce. Oh my, and who is this glowing young woman?"

"This is Harleen Riddle. Harleen, this is Alfred Pennyworth." Bruce smiled as he caught the blush that came onto Harleen's cheeks at Alfred's description of him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Pennyworth." Harleen smiled and offered a hand for Alfred to shake.

"Please, call me Alfred. It's most wonderful to finally meet you. Master Bruce has told me so much about you." Harleen almost sputtered as Alfred took his hand and swiftly pecked the back of it.

"Then you must call me Harleen. I also hope he hasn't told you _everything_ about me." The young man gave Bruce a faux glare.

"I assure you, Master Bruce hasn't broken any of your confidences and has spoken very highly of you. Now, I think we should get you settled in. I've heard about the awful day you've had and I'm sure some food and rest will do you both good."

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce looked over at Harleen and gestured for him to follow Alfred.

The trio made their way upstairs where Harleen's room was quickly picked out.

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Harry liked Alfred, he seemed to genuinely care for Bruce Wayne. When he'd first been introduced, he'd just assumed he was the butler. Later, after watching how Bruce and Alfred interacted, Harry realized that the two had a great understanding of each other. They were like family.

Harry felt a bit home sick after witnessing the pair. He wondered how Ron and Hermione were doing. Especially Hermione, he'd only figured out his own pregnancy after hearing about her's after all. He was curious about her child's growth. Hopefully Ron had adjusted to the idea quickly and was learning what he needed to, Ron was very resistant to change.

When Harry's things were delivered, he had stood back and let Alfred direct the movers where to place everything. He was never good with fashion or anything related, so letting Alfred put the room into a pleasant order was fine with him.

The grounds were huge, and he took his time exploring the outside area as much as possible while Bruce was away during the day. When he was there, he would escort Harry around and tell him about certain areas.

Then one day, Bruce announced that he would be taking Harry to the doctor to check on Tom.

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Bruce used another of his less flashy cars to take Harleen to the doctor. On the way out of the car, he noticed how Harleen seemed to be rather paranoid to be with him. He wanted to kick himself when he realized why. Of course Harleen wouldn't want to catch any attention being seen with him! He was the Prince of Gotham and reporter's just loved taking any pictures of him they could get.

If Harleen was hiding from someone, the last thing he needed was his picture showing up in some tabloid speculating on whether he was having Bruce Wayne's love child. They would just have to make this quick then.

Entering the building, Bruce went to the receptionist to check Harleen in. Going to sit back down, Bruce noticed the nervous hands wringing themselves. He wanted to take those hands and stop them from abusing themselves, but he didn't think the gesture would be appreciated.

"Bruce?" Harleen's voice was filled with anxiety.

"Yes Harleen?"

"Um, you don't mind if I go in alone do you?"

Bruce didn't know why that bothered him. It wasn't as if he had any claims on Harleen or the child he was carrying, but for some reason it hurt that Harleen didn't want Bruce to go in. It was only then that he began to wonder whom the father was. What wizard would be powerful enough to impregnate this wizard?

"No, I don't mind." He muttered back vaguely.

He had proof that this was a male with him now. The blood sample he'd gotten off of Harleen had shown that it wasn't a woman, or even a hermaphrodite. This was indeed a man he was with, a very pregnant one. He wasn't bothered by it, as Harleen was a very nice young man. Bruce just wondered who he'd been with that resulted in the pregnancy and why he was so obviously in hiding.

Even now, he observed discreetly how Harleen's green eyes would check around every so often, as if he expected someone to jump out at him at any given moment.

"Harleen Riddle?" Bruce almost started and Harleen did, at the female voice who called for his companion.

Harleen rose awkwardly, his large stomach making it hard for him to do it gracefully, and walked over to the nurse. He looked over at Bruce and gave a strained smile; Bruce tried to give an encouraging one back. Somehow, he didn't think it was very reassuring.

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Harry walked around the garden of Wayne manor as he simply thought for a while. Tom was progressing well, and the doctor was pleased with how he was taking care of himself. Harry still wasn't sure what he would do after Tom's birth. Should he leave Gotham once he was well enough to perform magic again? If so, where could he possibly go? He knew that the wizarding world would always be on the look out for him. He wondered how long it would take the wizarding world to forget about him and move on. It certainly wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

Sitting down on a bench near some rose bushes, Harry took a deep breath and stretched out his senses. He almost started badly when he felt Her. Gotham. She was vibrant, alive, elegant, and so many other things that jumbled up at once he couldn't even tell anymore. She greeted him eagerly and he tentatively nudged back at the intense enthusiasm he felt from the city's magic.

He felt her try to communicate something, but he wasn't sure what she wanted to tell him. Eventually he felt her tugging, so he cautiously let her take him to where she wanted to lead his magical senses. He gasped as he felt the entire city; so many people, and there were many wizards and witches mixed in! He felt the smile that spread over his face as he continued mapping the city with his magic. He stretched his senses as far as he could and felt a very powerful magic from an old swamp on the out skirts of Gotham.

Harry stopped after awhile of feeling around, deciding that he couldn't risk exhausting himself. He gave a parting nudge to the city's magic as he broke the connection, feeling a reluctant nudge back. It was obvious the magic wanted him to stay longer. Harry just smiled and went into the manor for a nap.

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Bruce growled to himself as he saw the paper. It would seem that his visit to the doctor with Harleen hadn't gone unnoticed, if the picture was any indication. There wasn't anything wrong with the image; he and Harleen weren't touching in any way. The damage was done, however, as what appeared to be an unknown pregnant woman was in the presence of Bruce Wayne. Even if he didn't know Harleen and happened to be approaching the building at the same time as the young man, it would still cause rumors to stir.

He would have to keep the papers away from Harleen, since he didn't want to cause him any undue stress. In the meantime, he would have any doctor's appointments in his home. If he needed to go out with Harleen, then he would have to go as David. He never thought he'd feel grateful for Harleen actually knowing that secret.

Glancing over the paper again, he read the speculation on whether this woman was pregnant with his child or if it was another man's. He was surprised to feel jealousy flare up as he read that. How dare this writer just assume things about Harleen? Who knew how that child had been conceived, but he didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think about some powerful wizard sweet-talking the shy young man he'd come to know into spending the night with him.

Every time he'd visited Harleen, he would ask if there was any update with the baby, and if there was he would listen to Harleen speak so softly of the child. He could tell that the young man was already in complete adoration of his unborn son, as Harleen told Bruce he was having a boy. Bruce eventually felt as if he were a part of Harleen and this unborn child's life. He couldn't imagine parting ways with either of them once Harleen gave birth.

The birth was another thing he pondered. How would the young man deliver the baby? Surely there had to be some natural way for the man to deliver his baby, he couldn't imagine that magic would leave it up to a doctor having to cut the child out.

Bruce scoffed at himself for wasting so much time thinking about this. Harleen and his baby weren't Bruce's. He hadn't even approached the smaller man about anything resembling a relationship like that. He didn't even really _know _who Harleen was yet. There was still so much to learn about this man and he didn't know if he could trust him fully yet.

Bruce rose from his chair and went to suit up. It was time to guard his city.

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Harry was concerned. For the past week he'd barely seen Bruce and every time he asked about the man, Alfred always said he was away at work. That sounded like a bullshite answer if he'd ever heard one, and he'd heard many over the years.

The few times he did see the man, he looked a bit worse for wear. Business didn't usually give people that kind of stiffness in their movements. He seemed almost bruised; Harry wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. Bruce Wayne obviously had other bigger secrets at play besides his David Forrestor persona, but Harry would leave it alone for now. Truth always emerged eventually.

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Hope it was worth the long wait. Reviews have been helping tremendously with this story, so I thank everyone who has left one.

-Angelwarrior1


	7. Chapter 6

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Unbetaed**

**Chapter 6:**

Another week went by with Bruce still acting oddly. He was a little more frosty towards Harry, and he still seemed so tired and run down. Harry wasn't really sure what to make of this behavior, being at work all night couldn't be leaving Bruce that ragged looking. He looked exhausted sure, but he also looked worn. The kind of worn Harry had seen and felt during the war. He'd witnessed that weariness on Hermione and Ron's faces. This was something he was well acquainted with.

What would leave a playboy billionaire looking like that, though? It made Harry curious about the man's others secrets, which he knew he still had to find out. In the past, he usually went and investigated. Harry had certainly learned his lesson with looking into things he wasn't supposed to, though, having looked into two men's Pensieve's and feeling rather rotten afterwards for doing so. Snape's had been the worst, as the man had never forgiven him for it, not that he'd apologized properly either. Harry always felt regret towards his relationship with the sour man. He wouldn't jeopardize his fledging- _whatever_ he had with Bruce over an insane bout of curiosity.

Harry would just have to be patient.

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He hadn't meant to start ignoring his new guest, but Bruce just couldn't take being around Harleen for long. Those odd feelings he'd experienced when near Harleen seemed to be growing much more quickly than they had been when he was simply visiting the man.

It made him feel guilty to be away so much, he was supposed to be Harleen's friend. He knew he wasn't being a very good one at the moment. It wasn't exactly like Alfred was lying when Bruce instructed him to tell Harleen he was working, he was a very busy man after all.

Alfred had started giving him looks when he stayed out just a little bit later. Just a few more criminals, just one more check around the city, just a few more minutes watching a lead... They all added up and eventually he ended up staying out an hour or more longer than he'd meant to.

Every morning he woke up a little more tired and bruised and would rush through his morning rituals getting ready for work to beat Harleen before he came down to breakfast.

He knew this was hurting Harleen, and that was the last thing he wanted to do in regards to the young man. This couldn't work, though. He was Batman, and Harleen was not only pregnant, but running from something or someone. How could he form any real connections to Harleen and his child if he had to worry about his enemies possibly learning of the young man and his baby?

He knew this was only a temporary solution. Distance couldn't be kept for long when he was living in the same house with the person he was avoiding.

Eventually he would have to face this insanity and find a solution.

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Harry hadn't been actively searching for Bruce when it happened. He'd respected the man's privacy and given him the space he obviously wanted. It did hurt that the man who had saved him and brought him into his own home didn't want to be around him for some odd reason, but there wasn't much Harry could do about it. He was a guest, after all.

He'd been spending much of his time either exploring the manor, reading in the very large library, or helping Alfred with some of the man's easier tasks. Due to his getting closer to the end of his pregnancy, he was advised to rest as much a possible. He was a bit reluctant, Harry had never been one to lay about, but Alfred had been very strict about the matter and made Harry take a nap during the afternoons.

If he had still been in his old apartment, he would've had to quit his job at the bookstore and stay there alone. Alfred had ended up taking Harry to the bookstore so he could quit, it would've looked odd if he'd suddenly just vanished. So all in all, Harry was very grateful to be staying in Bruce's home, even if he only had Alfred for company most of the time.

Harry was actually heading to his room when he ran into Bruce. The hour was quite late or perhaps early, depending on perspective, around four in the morning. Harry had woken due to a nightmare, a usual occurrence given his past, so he'd headed to the kitchen for some warm milk.

He'd never really considered the whole warm milk thing, but after Alfred found him awake in the kitchen on one late night, he'd put a glass in front of him and had him drink it. Harry didn't know if it was the milk or the gesture that had helped, but afterwards, as he laid his head on his pillow once more, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

So, he'd picked up the habit of getting warm milk whenever he couldn't get back to sleep after one of his many nightmares, and this night had been no different. Except it obviously was, as Bruce was heading down the hall to the stairway, just as he was.

Taking in Bruce's appearance in the darkened hallway, Harry's concern grew. It wasn't obvious, as he couldn't see much in the darkness, but Bruce's form was rather tense.

"Harleen? What are you doing up at this hour?" Harry stayed still as Bruce approached him.

"Couldn't sleep, was getting a drink. How about you? Working late?" Harry's green eyes took as much of Bruce's face in as he could in the lightless hall.

"As usual, I'm afraid. Come on, we should head to our beds. You especially need your sleep." Bruce moved around Harry and made his way to the staircase.

"I believe I could say the same for you, Mr. Wayne. You're looking rather terrible at this point." Harry eyed Bruce in both parts amusement and concern.

"The business world can be particularly grueling, Ms. Riddle."

"Have a lot of ruthless cut throats to deal with, do you?" Harleen raised a brow in amusement as he and Bruce climbed the stairs together.

"Of course, but there's also other worries."

"Such as?"

"Well, two of the secretaries broke out into a nasty fight in the break room."

"I can see why you're so tired all the time, then. Fighting women can be very tiresome to deal with."

Bruce didn't reply, but Harry could feel that the man was rather tickled at the conversation, as there was a lightness in the air.

The conversation waned and the two separated and gave nods of good night to the other. Harry began walking down the hall to his room when a fluttering sensation began in his stomach, making Harry gasp in surprised delight.

"What's wrong?" Bruce was immediately by his side, Harry hadn't even known he'd heard him.

"It's nothing Bruce, really." Harry blushed in embarrassment.

"Oh? So I didn't hear you gasp in pain just now?" Bruce looked down at his stomach as he took Harry's right elbow gently to make sure he was steady.

"Actually, it was more a gasp of surprise." Harry definitely felt foolish at that moment, as the man was practically radiating worry.

"Surprise?"

"Er, yes. He kicked. He's still doing it right now." Harry smiled and placed a hand on his large stomach to feel Tom's movements.

Bruce was silent and eventually Harry looked up to see Bruce's head turned towards his belly.

"Would you like to feel?" Harry offered nervously.

He wasn't sure if the man would feel comfortable, but he didn't know what else to say.

"If- you're sure?" Bruce cleared his throat after his first attempt, he sounded nervous himself.

"I am. Just place your hand on my stomach where mine is resting." Harry removed his own hand when Bruce's came to rest in the same spot.

Harry gently took Bruce's hand and repositioned it into a better area. The man beside him startled slightly when Tom suddenly gave a hard kick. It didn't hurt, but it tickled, which in turn, made Harry laugh.

"What?" Bruce's quiet voice questioned.

"Tickles." Harry whispered back.

"Bruce?" Harry questioned so softly Bruce barely heard.

"Yes?"

"I don't know what you're doing that's making you so tired, but please remember to rest every now and then. It would pain me to know you've gotten hurt due to exhaustion."

Bruce didn't say anything, but Harry knew he'd taken his words to heart.

The two stood there for many minutes in that position; Bruce feeling the life he'd helped to protect moving and Harry quietly laughing when the tickling sensations caught him by surprise.

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Bruce didn't stay away from Harleen anymore after that night. Not only had the isolation not solved anything, but he really hadn't been taking very good care of himself and had ended up accumulating more injuries than he normally would've due to the fatigue.

It also just hadn't been fair to Harleen. He'd already felt guilty about the time he left Harleen alone for a few days when the young man was still living in his apartment. There really wasn't any excuse for ignoring him as Bruce had for the last couple of weeks. As a result he ended up spending a little more time with Harleen. He did it gradually, so Harleen wouldn't notice. Meeting Harleen in the library, checking up on Alfred, which meant checking up on Harleen too, and eventually escorting Harleen around the grounds again.

Harleen didn't say anything, something he was very grateful for. Bruce found he was constantly being surprised by this man. The depth of understanding from Harleen was something he'd never seen in another person. He'd been forgiven pretty much instantly whenever he messed up, which was really annoying for him as he wasn't used to making mistakes so many times with one individual.

It was getting to the point where he wasn't sure that even if he found out Harleen's big secret was that he'd killed someone, he wouldn't forgive the young man for it and still try to help him. Bruce couldn't really picture someone as sweet and shy as Harleen killing anyone, but he knew that everyone had darkness in them. Even if he found out the man _had_ killed someone, he would listen to the man's reasoning and then figure out what he was going to do. Bruce really hoped that wasn't Harleen's big secret, though.

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Harry was a bit surprised when Bruce suddenly started showing up a bit more. He wasn't sure what had changed for the man in his brief absence, but it wasn't made so obvious, as the owner of the manor only started showing up a little bit at a time. It did bring that warmth that had been absent with the man back into Harry once more, though.

He still didn't let Bruce into his check-ups for Tom, which he knew brought a bit of awkwardness to the two of them once he came out of the room. Bruce had been kind enough to set up the equipment needed to monitor Tom's progress, and Harry felt bad that he couldn't let the man in to see the life he'd helped protect. Harry wanted to show Bruce a picture from the ultrasound, but he was nervous about it.

What if Bruce asked who the father was? What could Harry possibly tell the man? If he told Bruce he didn't know, that would make it seem like something bad had happened to result in the pregnancy. If Harry told him the man was dead, then he'd still have to come up with a believable story about the father. He didn't really feel comfortable with lying and saying he'd had sex with a man when he was still a virgin. It felt wrong on so many levels. Maybe he'd be able to show Bruce the pictures of Tom's growth one day, but Harry didn't think that day would be coming anytime soon.

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It was Christmas time, and while Bruce had never really celebrated the season too much in the past, this year was a little different. He paused to watch Alfred and Harleen putting up some lights over the fire place. There was a large tree over near the big window. The atmosphere was relaxed and held a warmth to it helped by the glowing fire that burned softly.

He stared at Harleen, with his messy hair up in it's usual bun that had the wavy ends of his hair hanging over it. Bruce wondered how long that hair was when down, he'd never gotten the chance to see it. There seemed to be so much of it. Would it reach all the way down to his waist? How thick was it? Could he bury both of his large hands in it and still have hair flowing over them?

Maybe he'd been drinking too much eggnog. Harleen looked over his slim shoulder and gave him a smile as if he'd heard Bruce's last thought and agreed with him.

Bruce put his glass down and went to help the pair.

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Harry hadn't had many good Christmases, the few good one's occurring at Hogwarts, so having the Yule Holiday happen at Wayne manor was certainly a treat for him. Alfred took him around and together they put up all kinds of decorations. He especially loved decorating the tree with a bunch of shiny silver orbs. They kept the lights white. It was simplistic, but no less gorgeous. Alfred had to put the star up, as he and Bruce didn't want Harry that high up.

Bruce lingered in the background for the most part, just watching. Eventually, he set down his drink and approached to help them himself. Alfred, of course, decided the kitchen needed him more, since Bruce and he had things under control.

Harry couldn't help but glare mildly at the man for running off and leaving him with the man. There seemed to be this growing- _something_- between them. He'd swear it was tension, but he wasn't sure why. Then again, he'd never been very good with figuring out his feelings, oblivious was the word Hermione used to describe him. She claimed he wouldn't know if someone were interested in him unless they smacked him upside the head with it.

He didn't think he was that bad, though, he'd realized about Ginny liking him after all. Well, _eventually_.

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Christmas morning came and with it, the opening of gifts. Bruce received the usual amount of gifts, some nice clothing from Alfred and many gifts from business associates, employees, etc. Basically the same thing that happened ever year. While he usually didn't put effort into Christmas at all, Bruce had done it this year purely for Harleen's benefit.

Once he'd seen the young man's expression of delight in helping Alfred decorate, Bruce was very glad that he'd decided to celebrate it properly. The excitement that made those green eyes simply spark and glow with life, was truly beautiful.

He watched with a warm feeling as Harleen opened some of the gifts Bruce bought for him. The look of gratitude and affection sent his way from Harleen as he held up the clothes for his unborn child was better than any words the young man could have spoken. Alfred had given a few baby oriented presents for Harleen as well, which he was thanked adamantly for.

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Harry couldn't believe the amount of gifts he'd been given by Alfred and Bruce. So many baby items! They'd also given him a few sets of clothing, along with the most beautiful dress he'd ever seen from Bruce.

Eventually Alfred left the pair to go into the kitchen and Harry figured it was best to give Bruce his gift then. He was nervous though, what if Bruce didn't like his gift?

"Um, I have something for you." Harry pulled out the tiny package from his sweater pocket and stared at it, rather than at Bruce.

"Oh? You didn't have to get me anything, but I very much appreciate it."

"It's nothing great or anything." Harry thrust the present out quickly at Bruce, still looking down at his hand.

"I'm sure I'll like it just fine, Harleen. I have something else for you too. Here." Harry looked up at that announcement and watched as Bruce took out a small box from his pocket.

They both stared at each other as Bruce's finger lingered as he was handing over Harry's gift. Finally, Harry broke the connection and looked down at the wrapped box he was holding. He opened it after a moment of silence passed.

"Oh, it's beautiful." Harry breathed as he held up a lovely hair comb.

The comb was made of silver, encrusted with jewels of emerald. The emeralds surrounded an H made of onyx stones. It was simple, yet very stunning to the eyes.

"Bruce... This must have cost a small fortune. You didn't have to get me such a lavish gift." Harry looked up at Bruce, his cheeks slightly red from the attention the other man was giving him.

"I know, but I wanted to, and a small fortune isn't going to put me into the poor house anytime soon Harleen." Bruce just continued gazing into Harry's eyes, until finally Harry had to look away from those intense shades of blue.

"Well, thank you Bruce. This is very lovely. Open your gift now, and before you ask, no, I didn't have to go anywhere to get this for you. It's a family heirloom. It doesn't get any use from me, but maybe you'll find it somewhat helpful." Harry looked expectantly at the small wrapped box in Bruce's hand.

Bruce looked at the box with curious eyes before finally opening it. Inside the box was a small silver pocket watch. It had a few odd carvings surrounded by diamonds on the front, and when he opened it the face was lined in a circle of diamonds as well. What struck Bruce was how small the watch was. Usually pocket watches were larger, to make it easier to grab and see the numbers. This one was not very large, though, and the numbers were in roman numerals. All in all, a very unique gift from his guest.

"Harleen, this is unlike anything I've seen before. Do you know how far back in your family this goes?"

"No, I found it in a family vault before coming here."

"I can't accept this Harleen, this is a part of your family history."

"The items in my vault are to be used how I see fit Bruce. What better use could I have for that item right there than making sure a certain billionaire always knows the time where ever he is. You're always rushing around all over the place, so I figure having that might help. As you can see, it's not exactly an ordinary time piece. That little dial there can be wound and set for a certain time, like an alarm. It'll give a tiny chirp three times." Harry didn't bother listing its other capabilities, as it would likely frighten his host.

"Harleen, thank you. It's a wonderful gift."

"You're most welcome Bruce. It's the least I can do after everything you've done for us." Harry rested a hand on his stomach and gave it a soft rub.

"And I'll keep doing more for the both of you, Harleen. You don't owe me anything."

Harry just smiled softly at Bruce on the outside. Inside, however, he was wracked with terrible guilt by all the secrets he was keeping from this generous man.

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"Well, I'd better head upstairs." Harleen heaved himself up by clutching the armrests of the chair.

"Of course." Bruce rose and walked with Harleen to the entryway of the arc.

"Thank you for the lovely gift, Bruce." Harleen peeked up shyly and smiled softly at Bruce.

"You're welcome, Harleen. Your gift is wonderful as well." Bruce gazed down at Harleen and felt the inexplicable urge to... just lay his lips upon the soft looking ones that belonged to the glowing young man.

"Good night." Harleen whispered, turned, and began walking to the staircase.

"Good night." Bruce replied, just as softly. A flutter of green hit his shoulder and landed near his feet.

Looking down, Bruce frowned at what appeared to be a... leaf? Blue eyes lifted and landed upon green and red. Mistletoe. Surprise took his features momentarily, until he looked to where Harleen had gone up the stairs, his petite frame shadowed by darkness.

What would it have been like? If he had simply given in and fluttered his lips against Harleen's for just a moment? Moments. There was always only a moment. Maybe someday he would get another one.

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Apologies for how late this is coming to all of you. I've been ill lately, still am, so I've not really had much energy to write. Writer's block also hasn't helped. There should have been more for this chapter, but as I was taking so long, I figured it would be best to just find a stopping place and give this as is to you patient people. Your reviews as always have been far too flattering, and I truly appreciate the many kind words of praise and wonderings of the story. As we're into Harry's seventh month, expect Tom's birth to be approaching soon. I won't spoil the plot anymore than that, so please don't ask when that event will be happening. Thanks for reading, and have a splendid holiday.

-Angelwarrior1


	8. Chapter 7

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Beta:** Unbetaed

**Chapter 7:**

Bruce Wayne was very unhappy. Harleen wanted to go out. He expressed how restless he felt being in the manor all day, and felt getting out for a bit would do him some good. Bruce was of course anxious about this idea. After all, Harleen was huge at this point and could go into labor at any moment. Harleen had simply rolled his vivid green eyes at Bruce and reasoned that it wouldn't take more than an hour and after that it would be straight home.

So it was that an unhappy Bruce Wayne watched a very pregnant Harleen Riddle be escorted to the limo by one Alfred Pennyworth.

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Things had started out well enough. Harry had left the car and walked about a few department stores with Alfred trailing him. The crowd wasn't too crazy since it was a few days after Christmas. It was when his bloody bladder decided to knock that things went wrong.

He'd gone to the loo with Alfred waiting outside. After relieving his poor bladder he'd left and rejoined Alfred. It was when they were heading to the elevators that chaos reigned down. A blast blew into the ceiling. Alfred dove to protect Harry as Harry ducked down and covered his bulging stomach.

"Ladies and gentlemen if you'll all cooperate and get down on the floor the hostage taking can begin." A lanky man in a purple suit with garish green hair waltzed in like he owned the place.

Harry heard an intake of breath and looked over up to see a pale Alfred.

"Alfred?" Harry whispered.

"It's the Joker. We mustn't gain his attention Ms. Riddle. The man has no qualms about harming anyone. Pregnant or otherwise."

Harry nodded his understanding and put his head down. No point in getting himself mixed up in any new messes.

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The tumbler rushed down the road, roaring loudly to any in its path to steer clear of it.

Batman frowned as a beeping noise came on, alerting him to a newscast that was all over Gotham. He turned on his screen and his usual frown harshened at what he saw.

'This is Vicki Vale for Gotham Live. I- I'm reporting live from the-'

'Okay enough of that! Hello boys and girls, it's your old pal Joker here! With me is the lovely Vicki and behind me are a bunch of people that are going to die unless Gotham's own Dark Knight can save them!' The mad cackle of Joker went off around the tumbler, crackling from the volume of it.

'Hope you're watching Bats, as this is real important. My clowns have taken each Lacey's store in the city hostage, and in one of those stores are several highly explosive devices. Guess what happens if you don't pick the right store Bats? That's right! Kaboom for all the innocent shoppers in the store.' Batman's eyes widened when he spotted Alfred kneeling protectively over a black haired person in the background.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was Harleen. Batman started locating all the Lacey's department stores in the city when his signal suddenly started going out.

'Ah ah ah! No trying to cheat with your bat-gizmos. Better find that bomb quickly or the store's gonna have a huge blowout!' The insane cackle cut off as Batman turned off the monitor.

"Computer, locate any electrical frequency in the city that could be that of an explosive device, then find the phone number for any Lacey's Department store near that area."

"Searching..."

Batman slowed to the side of the road and waited while the beeping of the search engine went on.

"Match found."

Batman scanned the results and felt triumph grow just the slightest bit.

"Computer, give me the phone directory for Gotham City." He pulled away from the curb with a screech of tires.

While Batman desperately wanted to go to Harleen's location and rescue him, he knew that wasn't a realistic choice for him. He needed to diffuse that bomb. Only after those people were safe, would he be able to go to Harleen.

Unfortunately, he always had to make the difficult choices.

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The waiting was excruciating. Harry felt like there was no time. He was stuck. Stuck in this stand still. The only reason he knew time hadn't really stopped was due to Alfred's harsh breathing above him. The older man was kneeling over him like a shield, ready to block everything that might try to harm him and his unborn child.

The man- the Joker- as Alfred referred to him, was muttering to himself and fiddling with a walkie-talkie in his hand. The news reporter he'd nabbed was sitting nervously with her cameraman at one side of the large entrance. Men with clown masks, who could only be henchmen for the madman keeping them there, were standing guard at all points of the store.

Finally, after what felt like years in the unnaturally tense silence, the Joker's walkie-talkie crackled.

Harry tried to make out what the crackling was saying, but he couldn't hear much of anything.

"What! Whadduya mean it's been turned off! You were supposed to guard it you _incompetent idiots_! RAWRRR!" The Joker was obviously infuriated over something, as he threw the device in his hand across the room and started pacing with jerky movements.

"Always ruining my fun, he is! Well not this time..." The Joker grabbed at his hair as he muttered to himself, then went oddly still.

He looked up and around him at his many hostages and a cruel smile grew on his face. Harry had seen all different types of insanity before, but this was yet one more type to add to the growing list.

It wasn't like Bellatrix exactly, though if he had to compare it with anyone's it would be hers. Bellatrix had always been a wild one, only tamed by her master, Voldemort. She had a love for torture that was clearly brought on by some of her years in Azkaban. Where Joker's cruelty came from Harry didn't know, nor did he wish to find out.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of ambling footsteps.

"Who wants to go for a ride with your old pal Joker, eh? Awww, no one? That's no fun! There has to be someone. I need a guest of honor to help me greet Batsy! Now who's it gonna be. Eeny meeny miny mo..." The man walked around the room pointing at random people in his twisted game as he passed.

A foreboding feeling ran through Harry and suddenly the stress of the situation grew as the Joker came closer. A frown marred the young man's face as warm wetness flowed down his legs. Did he just-

"Catch a tiger by the toe..." Closer.

Horror filled Harry's mind.

"And you are..." Closer.

Harry looked up at Alfred and grabbed the collar of his shirt. He brought his mouth up to Alfred's ear.

"The baby's coming." Harry whispered quietly.

"Not." Closer.

Alfred's wide eyes looked down at his.

"It." Stop.

"Well well, what have we here? Daddy dearest trying to protect his precious daughter perhaps? Well don't worry old man, I'll have her back by curfew! Wait... No, I won't!" A mad cackle spilled from his lips as he grabbed Harry's upper arm and hauled him up.

Harry let out a surprised gasp at the sudden pain the movement brought.

"Please, take me instead. I will go with you willingly." Alfred rose from his kneeling position and tried to approach the Joker, only for one of the man's goons to hit him in the stomach with the butt of his gun.

"Alfred!" Harry yelled in panic at the sight as he was dragged out of the store.

The ride to the Joker's hideout was an intense one for Harry. The man's cackle set him on edge, his nerves taut like a bowstring. It didn't help that the police were giving chase, and that the Joker seemed to think of it as a game to blow up as many obstacles in his path as he could.

"Heee heeee! Look at that explosion! Isn't it just beautiful?" Harry gaped in horror at the police car that was burning as the Joker looked over at him.

"What's wrong doll face, don't like the fireworks?"

Harry settled for simply glaring at the man, rather than responding. The Joker frowned in response and turned back to his twisted game.

"Women." He grumbled, then launched another rocket of colorful death at a group of bystanders on the street as they passed.

The rest of the trip involved Harry trying to ignore the mayhem his kidnapper was causing and listening to the gleeful cackle of the man in front as he caused numerous explosions.

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After he found the bomb's location, he quickly diffused it and hopped back into the tumbler. Turning on his radar, he quickly honed in on Harleen. The young man didn't know it, but the beautiful hair clip he was currently wearing was helping Batman track his location. After a while of following the signal it finally stopped moving. They'd gone to the bell tower apparently. Batman hit the nitro and knew he would never forgive himself if he didn't reach Harleen in time.

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Harry's smart mouth would usually comment on the poor treatment he was receiving, but he was currently too frightened to. He hated this helpless feeling. The mad man had a painful grip on his upper arm and was currently dragging him along up the tower stairs.

The man was going on about random topics, always switching thought trains too fast for Harry to even know what he was talking about.

"So then I told him, that isn't an acid squirting flower, this is!" Harry simply stared as the man cackled out his crazed laugh.

"Sheesh, no sense of humor this one. Remind me to grab a hostage with a funny bone in 'em next time." The Joker said to one of his henchmen.

They finally stopped in a room a few flights under the large bell at the top. The Joker threw Harry down on an old ratty mattress resting in the damp, cold room. Not the best place to bring his Tom into the world. Harry glared at the man's negligent treatment of his person. His arms stayed curled around his stomach protectively, as they had for the entire trip. His contractions were getting worse.

In the car he'd been able to keep quiet mostly due to all the noise the Joker had been making, but in this quiet environment he had no hope of staying silent. He whimpered when a strong wave of pain hit and his captor looked at him with twisted curiosity in his eyes. Harry tried to breath as much as he could as he panicked. The mad man approached him slowly, all the while staring at him. He finally crouched down next to Harry, who wanted nothing more than to flee far away from the look he was giving him.

"Are you in a lot of pain right now?" The man tilted his head like a small child would and waited for Harry's answer.

Harry cautiously nodded as another contraction hit. He couldn't help but clench his eyes shut in pain.

"My father- my father told me that I killed my mother when I left her womb." The scarred man licked his lips and continued.

"Do you think your child will kill you when it comes?"

Harry grit his teeth and sucked in breath through his clenched jaw as much as he could. After the wave passed he lifted his head and shot a look of venom at his captor.

"No, my child will not be killing me as he enters this world."

"A boy then? That'll be interesting to see. I've never actually gotten to see a mother giving birth. Guess that means I can cross this life goal off of my list." The man held an imaginary pen in hand and made an exaggerated motion of crossing something out on an invisible piece of paper.

"List?" Harry breathed, as he tried to keep the psycho talking.

"I have a list of goals in life I'd like to achieve, as any upstanding citizen usually does. Seeing a woman give birth wasn't very high on the list, but any kind of progress is still progress."

"What's your number one?" Harry grit his teeth once more as another wave came.

"My number one, oh my number is special. I don't think I should be telling you that, buuutttt, since you're helping me with my list right now I guess I can tell you. My number one goal in life. Is. To. Kill. The. Bat." He leaned in and whispered the last bit to Harry.

"Killing Batman is your number one? Why that?"

"Why that?! WHY THAT?!" The man slammed his fist down onto the floor near Harry's head, scaring the wits out of him as he tried to keep breathing steadily.

"Why not that?! He's the ultimate pillar of justice, swinging around and stopping every criminal out there he comes across! He's got the power to _kill_ any criminal his finds and what does he do?! He arrests them and sticks them in cages to rot for years and years, until they either escape or they fade into obscurity!" The man jumped up and paced around in a whirl of manic energy, his motions agitated, like a wild animal ready to strike.

"If he did kill criminals, you wouldn't be here right now though." Harry pointed out quietly, not sure if it was a good idea to keep this man talking anymore.

"Do you think I care about that?! I, am an agent of chaos. Chaos is perfect. The way it makes people panic and run around like lost little children. People need order, but I don't. If I plant a bomb next to my bed and sleep in it with the chance that it may go off while I'm sleeping, would I feel it? I might have a dream involving the pain, but would I actually know that I was being blown into a million pieces in my sleep?" The man leapt over to Harry and leaned over him, causing Harry to jump.

"I'm a curious man, you see? Death can happen at any time, but can I challenge the morals of a man at any time? No. I have to set up the scenario first. I can't just go and ask him for a hypothetical answer, do you know why?" He waited for Harry's answer, which was a negative shake of the head.

"Because he would lie, he might not mean to, but he'd give the answer that he had time to think about. That's not realistic, though. When you have a split second to act, no one knows what they'll really do until they just do it." The man stared at Harry with his crazed eyes, and Harry realized this man was even crazier than Bellatrix Lestrange.

At least Bellatrix had had some sense of self preservation, this man obviously didn't care at all what happened to himself, as long as he got satisfaction from the outcome.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?"

Harry just kept trying to breath as he waited for the man to continue his twisted, yet compelling story.

"I bet you're wondering where my curiosity comes from. Well, my father was an extremely curious man. He was curious and he was always happy, but I. Oh, I was alwaayyyss sad. So one day, my father comes home and sees me moping around as usual and he doesn't like that. Not at all. So he takes a blade, puts it in my mouth, like so, and says, 'Why so serious?' He proceeds to cut into the sides of my mouth, and all through the pain I can hear, 'Let's put a smile on that face.' His curiosity was sated after that, and now I'm always smiling. You know, you need to smile more too I think. Much too serious." Harry grabbed around the dirty floor for anything to help him, as the Joker moved the knife over to his mouth.

Just as the crazed man was putting the knife to his mouth a scream went off, echoing throughout the tower.

"Bats in my belfry!" The Joker growled and took off running out of the room, leaving a relieved Harry in his midst.

Harry knew he couldn't stay where he was and began to slowly pick himself up. The pain was unbearable, though, so moving was a slow process. He heard a crash echo, from further up the tower and headed down the stairs as quickly as he could.

He was making good, but slow progress, until he heard the mad cackle from his captor heading his way. Panicking, Harry tried to hurry his pace. He stumbled, and grabbed onto the railing with everything he had to keep from falling.

He gasped as a hand grabbed his long hair and yanked him up into a thin but sturdy chest.

"Is the Bats gonna risk the mother to be and her child, who as we speak is coming into this world?"

"Release her Joker." Harry stared into the cowled eyes of his once savior.

"Still not watching what you say, huh?" Harry shrieked as he was shoved over the railing and began plummeting down the many flights of stairs he'd climbed earlier.

He heard a fluttering of fabric, the hard coils of muscles surrounding his upper chest, the restriction of his lungs as he was jerked to a stop. Finally the feeling of going upwards, rather than down, came and Harry opened his eyes to look up into the face of his once again savior..

"You're alright now. I've got you." The voice rasped in his ear.

Harry released the breath he was holding shakily. They landed on the ground at the top of the tower. The Joker was gone.

"Thank y- AHH!" Harry doubled over as a strong contraction hit.

"What's wrong?!" Batman growled as he held Harry up.

"The baby's coming. NOW!" Harry yelled the last bit, as more pain came.

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There wasn't a lot he could do. They were too far from a hospital, and the baby wasn't waiting anymore. He would have to help Harleen deliver the baby himself. The few books he'd read were the only guide he had. Batman swung Harleen up into his arms and ran down the tower to the room where the old mattress Harleen mentioned was. It wasn't the most sanitary place, but it was the only place that would do at the moment. Harleen breathed harshly as he ran into the room to the mattress. He set Harleen down on his feet and held onto his waist to hold him up.

Taking his cape off, he laid it down over the filthy bedding. He helped Harleen down onto the bed.

Batman helped to position Harleen in what the young man deemed comfortable. The pregnant man was tense.

"Relax, I'm here with you. Just breath."

"You should know something about me." Harleen panted through harsh breaths.

"I already know what you are." Batman growled out softly as he pulled some pieces of clothe out from his utility belt.

"Wha- How'd you know?" Harleen gasped out in panic.

"Deep breaths, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help."

After that talking consisted of Batman encouraging Harleen to breath and push when the time came. He'd wondered how the young man was going to deliver, and he finally found out how. Apparently, the young man's anal passage served as the birth canal. Batman could only guess that Harleen's magic made it into a temporary birth canal so Harleen wouldn't have to be cut open.

The birth seemed to take forever, but really, only a few hours went by.

Tom Riddle was born around 4 A.M. on December 31st.

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Harry drifted in and out of sleep once his Tom was secured in his arms. Batman was holding him, and he could feel his sure footsteps carry him down the stairway of the bell tower. It was a wonder the police hadn't shown up, but apparently they were still too busy dealing with the near bombing of the department store.

He felt himself being placed into what could only be Batman's vehicle. Something warm was placed over him and Tom, he supposed it was a blanket. Then movement, fast smooth movement. Sleep.

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Batman ran up from the Batcave with Harleen and the baby boy in the young man's arms. He bellowed for Alfred and finally slowed at the first guest room he saw. Placing the sleeping man down, he took the bloody blanket from the pair and laid a fresh one over them.

"You called Mast- Good lord! Is he alright?!"

"Call Harleen's doctor Alfred, then stay with him. I need to change."

"Of course, Master Wayne." Alfred pulled out a cell phone and hurriedly called Harleen's doctor.

Batman left and transformed into Bruce Wayne once more.

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"Well Ms. Riddle, you and Tom are certainly lucky that Batman was around to help you give birth."

"Harleen?! I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help!" Bruce rushed into the room and was at Harleen's bedside in an instant.

"It's okay Bruce. We're fine."

"How is he?" Bruce looked to the doctor, who smiled at the concern the billionaire was showing.

"Just fine, little Tom here is perfectly healthy. Weighed in at 8 pounds 5 ounces."

"Thank you doctor." Bruce breathed a sigh of genuine relief.

"Well, I'm done here for the day. I'll come back tomorrow to check on the two of you." The doctor smiled at Harleen and baby Tom, then spared a parting one to Bruce as she left.

"I'm so sorry I didn't go with you." Bruce spoke softly as he pulled a chair up to Harleen's bedside.

"It's okay Bruce, I don't expect you to be with me every time I go somewhere. Bruce, I'd like you to meet Tom Riddle." Harleen pulled the blanket wrapped around Tom away so Bruce could see the baby's face.

"He's beautiful." Bruce looked in wonder at the tiny little being he'd helped to bring into the world.

There was so much stress while he had been helping that he hadn't appreciated the results. Now he could. Harleen was safe, alive. Harleen's baby- Tom- was born, healthy. They were alright.

They were all alright.

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Before people start asking, no this isn't the end of the story. There's still more plot to go before it's over. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and well wishers. I've been feeling a little better, but what I have is a condition so it's more me having to manage it than just getting better. Some days good, some bad. All your support has been so wonderful, really. I've lost my beta, I won't bother asking for a new one. That being revealed, if you spot any glaring errors that need to be fixed, let me know. As always, review!

-Angelwarrior1


	9. Chapter 8

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Author's Note: **So, I got a weird review from someone I thought I'd address. This reviewer claimed I was putting political views into my story by projecting a pro-life stance onto Harry. First off, I love how this reviewer assumes what my political view on abortion is, which is thus; I don't give a shit whether you keep your baby or not. Second off, if Harry had an abortion that would be the end of the story. He would have no reason to run from the wizarding world, and he sure as hell wouldn't be meeting Batman. Thirdly, Harry would be OOC if he offed his kid in the womb. As far as I'm concerned, Harry's always craved a family since he was a child, and I'm sure he's tired of death hanging around him. So from my point of view, he wouldn't kill his baby growing inside of him. There you have it, I don't care about whether someone chooses to have their baby or not, it's their decision. Next time one of you reviewers out there think you can judge my political views based on a piece of fiction I write, just pause for a moment and think. To be an author means you need to be able to break away from what you personally think, and try to think like the characters you're portraying. That's my goal, so don't assume to know my personal thoughts. Or I'll just tell you to fuck off.

**Beta:** Unbetaed

**Chapter 8:**

It was odd, having a baby in the manor. Harleen spent the next couple of weeks resting and recovering from the birth, and the new baby, Tom, was... well. He was an odd baby. Too quiet, hardly made a fuss. Bruce wasn't sure what it was about the child, but he felt a bit wary of it. Harleen, of course was a wonderful mother, as Bruce knew the young man would be. Harleen fed the child with formula, for obvious reasons, though Harleen just made the excuse that he'd rather not breast feed.

Bruce wondered how long the charade would last, but knew he couldn't let on his knowledge of Harleen's secret without revealing his own. Alfred shared his own concerns over Tom's oddities, but it was obvious that Alfred loved having a baby in the manor. Harleen was most kind in letting Alfred hold Tom and spending a little time with the child. There was one other thing that Bruce had noticed right away. The baby stared at people. It was rather unnerving, having those dark blue newborn eyes staring at you as you held the child. Bruce wasn't able to hold the child long before giving it back to Harleen. Perhaps he was just being overly paranoid, though he never believed in being too paranoid, but Tom was not at all what Bruce had planned on.

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Harry knew that Tom's behavior was strange for a newborn, but he'd known ahead of time that there was a good chance that Tom wouldn't be a normal baby. He was glad he didn't hold on to any unrealistic expectations, as Tom was peculiar. He didn't cry at all, just made this quiet huffing noise with the occasional whimper. It was like he knew not to cry. It worried Harry a bit. Would Tom remember things from his former life? If he did, would he trust Harry enough to come to him? Harry wasn't sure, but he hoped he would be able to give Tom the kind of childhood that would make a difference. It was a huge risk, giving birth to someone as intelligent and powerful as Tom. Someone who'd used those gifts to hurt others. Harry could only hope that this time things would be different.

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It was another typical day at Wayne Enterprises, the usual meetings where he pretended to be asleep, the usual time spent with Lucius actually getting something done. It was all normal, until his secretary let him know that a young woman was there to see him.

He knew he didn't have any appointments with any women, so he could only assume it was a disgruntled fling from the time before he'd met Harleen. He really hoped it wasn't.

The door to his office opened, letting in a very attractive red head. If he wasn't so interested in Harleen, this woman would certainly be one he'd consider chatting up.

"I hope I'm not intruding, Mr. Wayne." The darkly seductive voice rang clear and sultry in the air of the office.

"Not at all, miss...?" Bruce gave his usual charming grin reserved only for the opposite sex, with Harleen recently added to the list.

"Pamela Isley. I'm a botanist with Che Jera Pharmaceuticals." The woman smiled with her full red lips.

"Okay, and what can I do for you, Ms. Isley?"

"I'm here to discuss some of the latest products I've been developing and how I think they may be beneficial to your company, Mr. Wayne." Bruce wasn't sure what it was about Pamela Isley, but alarm bells were going off in his head.

"I'm not sure how any of your company's products could be beneficial to mine, Ms. Isley."

"Oh, but they are! Why, take-" Isley began only to be cut off.

"As it is, I'm not the one to handle this kind of business. If you're truly serious about this, you'll need to speak to Lucius Fox, President of Wayne Enterprises."

"Of course, how silly of me. You're obviously too busy to be dealing with this kind of thing. I'll just be on my way." Isley turned to leave, when she suddenly stopped to view her reflection in the tinted window near the door.

"Oh dear, do you mind if I powder my nose real quick?"

"Not at all." Bruce turned and made his way back to his desk to shuffle some paperwork.

He startled and spun back when Isley's voice sounded far too close for comfort.

"Mr. Wayne." He stared into the red head's forest green eyes, subconsciously comparing them to Harleen's and finding them lacking.

A cloud of powder suddenly found it's way into his breathing space, forcing him to cough violently.

"Now, Bruce, what were you saying about me having to leave?" Isley's lips formed a malicious smile as she watched her mind altering powder go to work.

It was one of her earlier creations, an experiment really. One that benefited her when dealing with the opposite sex. She was surprised she'd had to use it on Wayne, but she always came prepared. The drug would drive him mad with lust, eventually leading to death. His system would be in a constant state of hyper awareness until the lust was sated. Whoever he lusted after most would be all he could think about, and since he was a single playboy, he would obviously lust after her. After all, Pamela Isley was well aware of how men's heads turned at the briefest glance of her. Bruce Wayne was no different.

"Bruce, listen carefully now. I want you to-" Pamela's lips whispered seductively into the dazed Bruce Wayne's ear, but before she could finish with her instructions, the door to Bruce's office opened.

"Mr. Wayne, I've come to take you home for the day. You still have that appointment with the doctor regarding Ms. Riddle." Isley was infuriated to see that Bruce's attention suddenly shifted to the older man standing in the doorway.

"Coming, Alfred." Bruce replied in a dazed voice.

Alfred was offering to take Bruce home, and Bruce knew that home meant Harleen being there. He _needed_ to see Harleen. Beautiful Harleen.

Bruce walked around Isley like he didn't even see her and followed Alfred out of the building, leaving a silently raging Pamela Isley behind.

During the car ride back to the manor, Alfred repeatedly asked if Bruce was okay. Bruce became a little more energetic and reassured Alfred that he was fine. Bruce did seem much better by the time they'd arrived back at the manor, so Alfred left him to it and tended to other business.

As Bruce entered his home, he couldn't help but feel oddly restless, like there was something he should be doing, but he couldn't seem to remember. He wandered around the manor a bit, until he came across his lovely house guest, Harleen. That's who he had been looking for. Harleen's hair was all waves and inky black silk, as Bruce watched the young man hold his child.

He felt like heat had suddenly entered his blood stream, heartbeat speeding up, and sweat prickling at his brow. Fire coiling low in his belly. He want, no, _needed_, Harleen in that moment. It was like everything around him narrowed down to the young man standing before him. He began heading straight for Harleen.

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Harry smiled softly as he held Tom in his arms. Tom stared up at him with his big, deep blue eyes. He knew they would change in color, though he wasn't sure what color they would eventually take. The Tom Riddle from the diary had eyes that were a dark hunter green, they would look nice for his little Tom.

Harry hummed a bit to the staring baby, rocking the silent child slightly. He wasn't worried too much about Tom's odd behavior, as the entire situation with Tom was so far from normal it wasn't funny. He would do his best to help Tom become a great young man, and hopefully the world wouldn't be endangered from the genius a second time.

Harry was pulled from his musings when he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching. He turned and found Bruce very close to him. In fact, if he hadn't had Tom in his arms, he would've been flush against Bruce.

"Bruce?" His voice came out soft, questioning, as he searched Bruce's intense gaze.

Something was wrong here. Bruce felt different. There was intensity he hadn't seen in the man before, predatory-like. Harry had no problem imagining himself as the prey. Anxiety flooded through Harry. What was going on here?

"Bruce? Are you alright?" Harry's arms tightened slightly around Tom, hugging the baby as close to himself as possible.

Bruce still hadn't answered, and Harry knew something was wrong when he noticed the sweat at the man's forehead, the labored breathing, and the dilated eyes. He was just standing there, staring at Harry.

Harry finally backed up, causing Bruce to suddenly move. He wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him as close as he could with Tom between them. Harry grew fearful at that, Bruce seemed to only be focusing on Harry. It was like he didn't even notice Tom was there. What if he crushed Tom?

"Bruce, please. You'll hurt Tom if you keep squeezing us that tight." Harry pleaded.

"Harleen." Harry looked up when the growling of his name was uttered.

Why did that voice sound familiar? Harry jumped when Bruce's face was suddenly buried in the crook of his neck. The sound of inhaling through nostrils reached his ears and Harry realized Bruce was sniffing him. He squirmed, uncomfortable with the close proximity, and almost squeaked when he felt a warmness on his neck. Did Bruce just lick his neck?!

"Uh! Bruce, um, you need to stop now. I- I think there's something wrong with you. We should get you to bed, then I can have Alfred call the doctor for you."

The only reply to this suggestion was a nibble to his neck, and Harry found himself biting his bottom lip to keep quiet. It felt absurdly nice, considering the situation. Harry was very tempted to just let go and let Bruce keep going, but he was holding Tom for Merlin's sake! He had to find a way to get through to Bruce.

The labored breathing, light sweating, and dilated eyes, all suggested he was drugged, but with what? Then there was the whole jumping Harry and basically assaulting him thing. Harry was rather reluctant to label it assault though, as he would have no problem doing this if Bruce wasn't so obviously drugged out if his mind. A lust spell perhaps? No, Harry would've felt the odd magic on Bruce the moment he felt the man's spark enter the manor. It must have been a drug then, but who would drug Bruce Wayne and just let him go like that? He could only imagine it was a female that drugged Bruce, perhaps with the idea of becoming impregnated with the man's child.

Harry found that idea infuriating, but he ignored his personal feelings on the matter and kept thinking. He wasn't sure why the man was there, but it was a certainty that he wouldn't stop unless subdued. With that thought in mind, Harry formed a plan that he hoped would work.

"Bruce." Harry lowered his voice into what he hoped sounded like something inviting and waited to see how Bruce would react.

Harry wanted to smile in triumph when Bruce's head lifted to look at him, but he kept his face open. He smiled warmly at Bruce, and watched as the man's eyes drew to his lips. Feeling emboldened by the reaction he was getting, he tilted his head back slightly to gaze at Bruce better.

"Bruce, do you want me?" Harry's heart felt like it would burst from his chest and start running, as he asked that question.

What was he doing?! He was seducing his host! Harry really hoped Bruce wouldn't remember any of this. He'd never seduced anyone in his life, so he was pretty damn sure this was the most terribly laughable seduction Bruce Wayne had ever encountered. If the man did remember this, Harry was sure he'd get a good laugh out of the whole thing. Harry forced his eyes to remain locked with Bruce's.

"Yes." Bruce's face was close to Harry's, their breaths intermingling into each other.

Harry felt warmth spread through his being. He didn't have to pretend to want this man, to need him. Their lips shared the barest hint of joining, before Harry moved in for the kill.

"Then let me put my baby to bed, Bruce. After that, I'm all yours. No one to interrupt us. Just you. And me." Harry whispered lowly into Bruce's breath, keeping that almost connection there.

He pulled back to look into Bruce's eyes, let the man see that he wanted him just as much as Bruce wanted him. His victory came in the form of Bruce's eyes showing that he accepted Harry's proposal. Harry stepped out of Bruce's now loosened hold and began backing slowly towards the staircase, Bruce shadowing his every step. The trip to Tom's nursery took longer than usual, as Harry refused to let his eyes drop from Bruce's. Finally, he tore his gaze from Bruce to put Tom down, smiling reassuringly at the still staring child.

Tom hadn't made a single noise during the whole encounter, it was like he knew there was danger in the air.

When Harry turned back from Tom's crib, he found his body pulled to Bruce's by his upper arms, lips suddenly crushed to another's. Harry gasped in surprise and the man holding him so desperately wasted no time in sweeping his tongue into his mouth. It was like Bruce was trying to wipe out all the noises himself with his tongue, as he dominated Harry's mouth completely.

Harry felt like his knees were suddenly turned to limp noodles, and only Bruce's strong hold on his arms held him up. The kiss lasted until Harry felt light headed, he finally ripped away from Bruce's insistent mouth and gasped in deep breaths of air.

"Bruce. Your bedroom. Now." Harry barely managed to pant out as Bruce growled and started dragging Harry out of the room.

Harry wasn't to be manhandled, though, as he got loose from Bruce's hold and began luring the man the rest of the way to his room. He could tell that Bruce was growing impatient as Harry kept dodging the man's attempts to grab him. The blue eyes flashed with hunger when Harry gave the man a small smirk in victory as they finally reached the door to his room. Harry really should have seen it coming when the man lunged at him and trapped him against the wall next to the door.

Lips reclaimed his once more and Harry let them explore his mouth for a few moments before struggling to pull back.

"Bruce, your bed." Harry breathed against Bruce's lips.

Bruce didn't pull away, but he did loosen his hold and let Harry pull him into the room. Harry kicked the door closed and dragged Bruce over to the bed.

Next would be the tricky part. While Harry didn't have full access to his magic back, he had a little trickle going that he could feel would work. If he could let it pool long enough, it should in theory let him cast a very small spell. He'd thought of the solution to subduing Bruce downstairs, and had already begun to let his magic gather while luring Bruce up to Tom's room. The kisses had broken his concentration a bit, though, so he'd had to gather some of the magic he'd lost during the interruption. The man really knew how to kiss.

His thought process was broken when his body was pulled against a hard, toned body. Really, the man was ridiculously fit, and Harry would be lying if he didn't admit at least to himself that he was sorely tempted to just let this man take him. It was hard having such strong morals sometimes.

Harry squeaked into Bruce's mouth when the man's hands grabbed his ass, lifted him, and suddenly threw him onto the bed. The breath left Harry as the world readjusted itself, finally letting him see Bruce climb up onto him. Harry was panting at that point, waiting as Bruce moved his body slowly up, rubbing against his. It was with agonizing slowness that Bruce finally laid out on top of him and began kissing at his neck and jaw. Harry tried to continue pooling more of his magic, waiting until he knew he'd have his one shot at casting the spell. In his inattentive state, he never expected hands to grab his legs and wrap them around a firm waist. He gasped and opened his eyes, only to see Bruce's there, staring into his. Harry was embarrassed to hear a moan come from his throat as Bruce rocked their hips together. Surely Bruce didn't understand what was going on, if he did he would know that what he was rocking against was another man!

Harry just shut his eyes and thrust his hips up into Bruce's, causing the man to growl and attack his mouth, thrusting his tongue in time with his hips. Harry kept his eyes closed as he moved his hands up into Bruce's hair and kissed back like it was the last kiss they would ever share, because in all likelihood, it probably was. He helped temper the kiss into something slow and just poured his feelings for the man into the kiss, then he released his magic through his hands into Bruce's head, casting a silent Stupefy. The weight of Bruce fell onto Harry, the man unconscious.

Harry wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all, instead he just rolled Bruce off of him and made him comfortable in the bed. He called Alfred in and explained what he could of the situation, expressing his concerns that Bruce hadn't been acting like himself. Alfred called in Lucius Fox, which confused Harry. Why Fox and not the man's doctor?

He found himself being ushered out of the room and ended up waiting in Tom's. Oddly enough, he found Tom awake, he likely had been the entire time. Harry just smiled at Tom and picked him up.

"Hey Tom, sorry if I gave you a scare, little love. Bruce is just sick right now, but he's got someone looking at him now to see what the problem is. Hopefully he'll be right as rain soon, eh?" Tom, having no reply, just watched Harry as he spoke.

Harry just chuckled in response to the silence and kissed Tom's fine baby cheek. He sighed as he rubbed his cheek against his baby's. He waited the rest of the time in silence with Tom.

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Sorry for the long wait, it's been like writer's block left and right lately. Hopefully I'll be able to get back in the flow for writing this. Thanks for all the amazing reviews and feedback everyone.

-Angelwarrior1


	10. Chapter 9

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Author's Notes: **So I forgot to mention in the previous chapter, but I may as well let everyone know now that I managed to get myself an invite to AO3. If you'd like to read the story there, I'm under the same pen name. Same applies for Aff dot net.

**Beta:** Unbetaed

**Chapter 9:**

Harry was eventually informed that Bruce was going to be okay. Lucius Fox confirmed that Bruce was likely to be feverish for a few days, and would have as much time off as he needed to get well again. He promised Harry and Alfred that he would investigate Wayne Enterprises and find out how Bruce had been drugged.

Harry, being a naturally curious person, asked many questions about how Bruce had come to be that way and why they hadn't called in Bruce's doctor. He grew increasingly frustrated when the two men gave him the run around and then Lucius was excusing himself and Alfred was seeing the man to the door. The whole thing made Harry want to yank his hair out. It was like being back at Hogwarts, with too many questions and not nearly enough answers to satiate his quest to solve the puzzle.

Harry could admit to himself that he'd been depressed for a while during the pregnancy. He ate, not because he was hungry, but because he knew he needed to feed Tom's growing body while he was defenseless inside his stomach. He'd slept a lot during that time, more than he'd probably needed to. He hadn't really been interested in anything, had sort of just been drifting along with life.

Wake up, get ready for work at the bookstore, come home, eat, go to bed. Hardly any different in the following days. Then Bruce showed up in his life, and maybe he didn't suddenly have a spring in his step, but it was just a bit brighter. He had the man's visits to look forward to, and it still wasn't okay that he was pregnant and all the way across the ocean, separated from his friends and family, but he wasn't so alone either.

In the here and now, though, he was starting to feel a little more like his old self, before the final battle and the death. His own death. Dying had changed him, even though he'd acted like it hadn't. To all of his friends and loved ones he was still how he was supposed to be. He still carried on as usual. It was just an act, he was pretty certain Hermione had seen through it too. Now, however, he felt like being a little nosy. He felt like snooping and looking through every room in the manor, finding any secrets the building may hold. It felt like being back at Hogwarts almost, having a pressing mystery to solve, and being the only one who could get to the bottom of things.

He hoped Bruce wouldn't be too angry with him, because when Harry Potter wanted to know something, he always found out about it in the end.

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He found it hard to wake up, but eventually he managed to drag his heavy feeling eyelids open. His icy blue eyes searched the room in confusion, but he relaxed when he found he was only in his bedroom. For some reason, Harleen was sleeping in the big chair next to his bed, curled up in sleep, with his head resting on the large cushiony arm of the plush chair. Black, wavy tendrils blocked some of Bruce's view of the young man's face.

For the life of him, Bruce couldn't remember why he was in the bed, or why Harleen would be sitting vigil next to it. The last thing he remembered was being in his office, speaking to a woman. Then, things got a bit hazy and disjointed. He vaguely recalled being driven home, by whom he could only assume had been Alfred, then...

Bruce's eyebrows furrowed as he strained to recollect what could have led to his current position. Slowly, the images came. Harleen with Tom, Harleen looking scared... of him. Harleen leading him, the feeling of holding Harleen's much smaller body against his own, though he didn't remember Harleen struggling. Kissing Harleen, God he'd basically assaulted him. Why the hell would Harleen be sleeping in the same room as the guy who'd tried to do the same thing as that other scumbag had in the alley? Bruce looked over at Harleen's peacefully sleeping form and just stared for a while, wondering how things could ever be okay between them again. It would always be there now. Bruce had always prided himself on having control over himself, he may not be able to control the way things worked around him, but he could always control himself. Apparently he couldn't, though, because he'd gone and tried to hurt the one person who may have been able to accept Bruce Wayne and Batman completely.

He didn't bother trying to wonder if that option was still available.

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Harry woke up and stretched a bit in the large chair. Alfred had been the one to pull it next to the bed for him, even when Harry had insisted he could just use a regular chair. Harry thought it was just Alfred's way of spoiling him, the man really did go out of his way to make him comfortable.

While rubbing the bottom of his palm into his right eye and yawning, Harry felt like there were eyes sitting on him. He looked over and saw Bruce awake, watching him.

"Oh Bruce, you're awake." Harry probably should've felt rather embarrassed about the man staring at him while he likely looked a right mess, but he was more worried about the man's health than his own appearance at the moment.

"How are you feeling? You've been feverish off and on for the last few days. Mr. Fox said that was to be expected, though I'm still not sure why they didn't call your personal doctor in to have a look at you." Harry mumbled the last bit to himself, then looked to Bruce to see if the man was still with him.

"I'm feeling alright. You said Lucius was here? So, I take it he's investigating what happened then?" Bruce had a feeling Lucius would have some video footage for him to look at when he returned to the office.

"Yes, though he hasn't said anything about it other than he'd look into it." Harry finished and the room drifted into an awkward silence.

"Bruce, do you- do you remember anything after you were drugged?" The weighted question filled the air.

"I-" Bruce began, but cut off.

"I remember I hurt you." Bruce finally admitted quietly.

"Bruce, you were drugged, and you didn't hurt me." Harry begged silently with his eyes for Bruce to believe him.

"But I easily _could_ have. If you hadn't tricked me into following you I could have ended up hurting Tom _and_ you."

"How- you knew it was a trick?" Harry didn't know if he should be insulted that Bruce knew what he had tried to do so quickly or if he should be pleased.

"Well, obviously not at the time, but looking back at it, it _was_ pretty obvious." Bruce had just a hint of amusement in his eyes, before they dulled again and he looked remorseful over what'd happened.

"Bruce. I don't blame _you_. It wasn't your fault. You were drugged." Harry insisted, staring into Bruce's eyes, trying to will the man into believing him.

"It doesn't matter if I was drugged, I should've been able to control myself more. I tried to hurt you, just like that man in the alley you told me about." Bruce looked away from Harry.

"Bruce, look at me." Harry grabbed one of Bruce's hands, causing the man to turn and look at him in surprise of the gesture.

"You are _nothing_ like that man in the alley who tried to hurt me. He was fully aware of his actions for one thing, and I also _know_ that you are good man, Bruce. You would never try to hurt me intentionally. I'm not afraid of you. I feel safe with you, instead." Harry smiled at Bruce and squeezed his hand.

Bruce's eyes eased of pain slightly, though Harry could see that it would take time before Bruce truly forgave himself for what he'd done.

Harry would just have to keep reminding Bruce that he was a good man.

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Things returned to normal, for the most part, after the incident. Bruce got better and soon returned to Wayne Enterprises to visit Lucius and see what the older man had discovered. Apparently, he'd found out that the woman- Pamela Isley- was a very intelligent woman who didn't mind using some very underhanded methods in order to accomplish her goals. He would be sure to keep an eye on her activities from that point on.

As far as Harleen was concerned, he didn't start avoiding the man again, but there was a new kind of awkwardness in the mix of things. He knew what Harleen's lips tasted like, knew what that pitch as black hair felt like, knew what some of that small body could do when pushed. He remembered enough to know that Harleen hadn't fought him when he'd assaulted him. Instead, the man had arched his small body to his own larger one.

He wasn't sure what to do to break the new tension that bubbled between them, but he knew something needed to change, and soon.

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Harry had taken to practicing his rapidly returning magic everyday while alone in his room. The slow trickling of his power was becoming larger and larger, and soon he had confidence that he would be back to his full strength soon.

During any spare time he could find, Harry explored the manor more thoroughly and investigated every nook and cranny. After a couple of weeks went by and he still hadn't found anything, Harry began to become frustrated, and decided to try another method of discovering Bruce Wayne's secrets. He planted a tracking charm on the man one morning before he headed off to work. Harry monitored the charm's progress, but the man didn't do anything odd. Bruce didn't even leave the building until it was time to return to the manor.

Harry just waited, and once Bruce returned to the manor, they had a quiet dinner with Alfred and Tom. Bruce excused himself for the night soon after, saying he had some more work to do for the night. Harry excused himself as well, stating that Tom needed a bath, which was true. Harry bathed Tom and sang a lullaby to the child, tucking him into bed soon after, then activated his tracking charm. He was alarmed to find that it wouldn't work, he could no longer trace Bruce.

The next day he tried again, waiting for Bruce to leave, then asking Alfred if he wouldn't mind helping Tom finish his dinner. Alfred gave him a stern look, as if he knew that Harry was up to something, but relented and did what he'd requested.

Harry rushed to catch up to Bruce, following the tracker all the way to the book case, where it stopped. Bruce had a secret passage? Harry examined all of the books, looked for any switches on the walls, but he eventually had to give up. Checking the tracking charm once more, Harry was agitated to see that it was once again disabled. Something had to open that bookcase, and he _would_ figure it out.

Harry spent the following day trying to think of a way to open the bookcase. He didn't want to spend too much time in the room itself searching for whatever it was that opened it, as it would look suspicious. He didn't know any spells either that could help him, or... maybe he did. Harry sat up in the large chair he'd been curled up in once his epiphany hit. Snape had used a spell, in third year, on the Marauder's Map. It hadn't worked the way the man had intended it too, but that was because the map had been spelled to counter such revealing spells. Perhaps it would work for him, though.

Harry went to Tom's room and checked on the napping baby. He had a monitoring charm set around his wrist that would let him know if Tom needed anything, but he still felt better checking on the child himself. Once he was reassured that Tom was fine, he set off with determined steps to the room with the bookcase.

Upon entering, he put a repelling charm over the doorway that would ensure Alfred wouldn't enter. He walked over to the bookcase and stood in front of it, looking over the rich wooden frame and shelves.

"Reveal your secrets." Harry held his hand out to the bookcase and willed his magic into making the spell work.

The bookcase lit up a soft purple, and a swirl of magic went around it. A soft, wispy tendril wafted out from the bookcase and drifted over to the piano. Harry waited as the spell did its work, and soon, a few keys on the piano lit up as well.

Harry walked over to the piano and glanced at the doorway once more. He added a silencing spell over the room, just to make sure. Once he felt he wouldn't be interrupted, Harry began trying different combinations for the keys that had lit up. It took him about a half hour, but he looked up sharply and smiled in triumph when he finally got the order right.

He looked to the doorway one more time, then went over to the bookcase and entered the hidden passageway. He was surprised to find an elevator of sorts, but he just gave an internal shrug and activated it. The trip was oddly long, and Harry wondered how deeply the contraption would take him.

Finally, it came to a stop, and Harry exited with barely a glance back to the machine. He was too busy staring in awe at the _cave_ he was in. He was _under_ Wayne manor. Bruce had a hidden cave that he disappeared into at night, and for some reason, his tracking charm didn't work once the man went down into the cave. Now Harry just had more questions. It would have to wait, though, as he needed to leave before he was discovered.

Harry left the cave and went back up into the manor, putting everything in the passage room back in order. He didn't have to worry about finger prints, as he'd used a spell to prevent getting his prints on anything when he'd been searching. He returned to Tom and found the baby awake in his crib.

"Hey sleepy head. Have a nice nap?" Harry stared down into the crib at Tom, who just stared back at Harry.

"Guess so, huh?" Harry just chuckled and lifted Tom out of his bed.

Padding softly over to the rocking chair in the room, Harry picked a children's book out and sat with Tom. He read to the child who rested against Harry, his now soft forest green eyes watching Harry's lips move as he read.

The next day Harry once more placed charms to keep Alfred away from the room and went down into the cave to explore it. He walked around the gigantic space and admired the structure of the rock walls and the water that flowed through it. He noticed the computers and gizmos scattered around the large space, but refrained from touching anything. Harry wasn't sure how the electronics would react to him, or more specifically, his magic. He'd been using a great amount of it lately, and he knew that sometimes residual magic hung around afterwards. That residual magic didn't always get along with electrical objects. Harry continued to walk around the cave, and enjoyed the sound of trickling water in the air.

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He hadn't counted on the thug that came out of nowhere hitting his side with a large mallet. His Kevlar armor protected him from knives and bullets, but heavy objects swinging into him were another matter entirely. He managed to dodge the next swing and took the guy out, but the man's work had already been done. Batman's already frowning mouth grimaced in pain, he was pretty sure one of his ribs were broken.

While he held his side in pain, one of the men he'd downed earlier got back up, sneaking up behind him hitting him with a pipe. Batman growled and knocked the man out again, having to bend and twist out of the way of the man's swings. He grit his teeth when more pain bloomed in his side.

Once the man went down, Batman began making his way slowly over to the side of a building. He lifted the arm on his good side and shot a grappling line out, gliding up the building and landing roughly on the rooftop with a sudden grunt of pain. He held a gloved hand to his injured side and pulled out a small controller from one of his utility pouches. Batman activated the tumbler and waited at the edge of the building's roof for it.

The sound of the tumbler roared down the road and stopped down below him. Batman dropped down and shot another grappling line to ease his fall into the tumbler. He felt his vision getting a bit hazy with the thud his body made into the seat. Setting the auto-pilot to return to the Batcave, he sat back and rested.

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Harry startled badly when a huge tank-thing broke through the waterfall of the cave. He panicked and looked for a place to hide when the tank's door opened and out came- Batman?!

"Alfred!" The cowled man's raspy voice pleaded for the man Harry knew.

Was that... Bruce? Harry stood stock still for a moment while his brain caught up. This was the Batcave, under Wayne manor. The injured man before him was Batman, he was calling for Alfred. Bruce Wayne was Batman. He was injured. _Oh!_

Harry rushed over and helped the hurt man out of the small tank. The man's head was hanging toward the ground, his arm guarding one of his sides. Harry helped him over to a metal table that was obviously meant for medical purposes.

"Thank you Alf- Harleen?" Batman's eyes met his and Harry felt his heart speed up in anticipation.

"What're you doing in here?" The man's voice rasped in rising anger, but Harry was having none of it.

"You can be mad all you like later, right now I need to see to that injury of yours. Come on, off with all that armor." Harry crossed his arms and just stared into the cowled man's eyes, not backing down.

"Where's Alfred?" Batman growled out menacingly.

"He's upstairs, perfectly fine I might add." Harry scoffed at the implications that he would ever do anything to hurt Alfred.

"Why isn't he down here?" The man was just being stubborn now.

"I put a repelling charm up in the room with the passage." Harry could be stubborn too.

"So you could pry into _my_ business." The man scowled.

"Like _you_ pried into _mine_, you mean?" Harry scowled right back.

"That was different." Batman finally looked away.

"How was that different?"

"I was making sure you weren't a threat to my city."

"And I was just making sure that you weren't a threat to my family." Harry snapped back.

"I wouldn't-ARGGH!" Batman shot up off of the table and let out a noise of pain immediately after, doubling over.

Harry helped him back onto the table and began tugging at his armor.

"Enough. We'll talk about this _after_ we make sure you aren't seriously hurt." Harry glared at the man until he gave in and slowly began working at his armor.

The pair slowly got the armor off of Batman's chest and while Harry would've blushed any other time, he was too worried to notice the man's state of undress. Harry winced when he got a good view of the injury. There was a bruise beginning to bloom where the man had been hurt. He would need to use to his magic to diagnose and heal any injuries, Madam Pomfrey had been kind enough to take him under her wing and teach him some healing spells during his Hogwarts years. The question was; would Batman trust him enough to let Harry use his magic to heal the injured man?

"If you'll let me, I can use my magic to heal you." Harry suggested quietly.

Silence took over for a few moments and Harry peered up through his wispy waves to see Batman's reaction. He blinked in surprise when he found the man watching him.

"Tell me what you're casting and what it does." The man finally relented.

"Alright. The first spell I'm going to cast is a diagnostic spell, it'll tell me what injuries you've acquired." Harry waited for the man to nod, then wove his hand in the pattern he was taught to.

"It appears you have a broken rib, luckily the rib didn't puncture anything. I can cast a spell to mend the bone, you'll just have to make sure to be careful with it for a week after. If it breaks again, it'll be even _more_ painful the second time around." Harry once more waited for the go ahead, then cast that spell as well.

Batman's face smoothed out once the spell had been cast, and Harry knew he'd realigned the bone properly.

"I can also cast a spell to sooth the pain a bit."

"No, that's not necessary." The voice rasped out, Harry wondered if the man's throat got irritated having to talk like that.

"Bru-" Harry began, but was cut off.

"Don't call me that! Not here." Batman growled out, and Harry found himself taking a step back for a moment from the hostility in his voice.

"Fine! Alright. Just don't yell at me." Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest unconsciously.

Batman's scowl softened at his response.

"Come on, we'll do this upstairs." The man rose and the pair rode the elevator up.

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Leaving the room with the bookcase, Batman went and became Bruce Wayne once more.

"Alfred!" Bruce's mind was swirling in chaos.

How had this happened? Harleen _knew_. Apparently, Bruce hadn't given the man enough credit, as the man was obviously intelligent enough to figure out that Bruce Wayne was Batman. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation they were about to have.

"What is it Master Wayne?" Alfred rushed over to him, fretting over the urgency in Bruce's voice.

"He _knows_." Bruce gave Alfred a meaningful look, and Alfred caught on right away.

"Oh dear."

Bruce just snorted at the response and went to find Harleen. He found Harleen in Tom's room, looking down at the slumbering baby.

Harleen turned to see who'd entered and stared into his eyes when he saw it was him.

"Where would you like to speak?" Harleen asked quietly.

"Downstairs." Harleen nodded to that and moved away from Tom.

They settled into separate chairs in front of the fireplace, and a heavy silence filled the air.

"So you obviously know about what I am. Knew while I was giving birth to Tom." Bruce jerked out of his thoughts and glanced at Harleen.

"You're a wizard." Bruce stated.

"How did you find out?" Bruce winced internally at the question.

"I may have investigated you a bit, out of curiosity. I was wondering what a well educated young woman, who was relatively well off, was doing in one of the Gotham's worst neighborhoods." It was Harleen's turn to wince, and he didn't bother masking the action.

"My real name is Harry James Potter. I'm from England. I just needed to get away for a while. I'm sort famous over there and being pregnant was difficult enough without having to worry about the press." Harleen, no, _Harry_ explained.

"Why?"

"Seemed like a good place to hide. Who would _willingly_ choose a shitty neighborhood to live in, after all?" Bruce conceded on that point.

"Why are you famous?" Harry grimaced at question.

"I promise I _will_ tell you, but please, give me a little time to think about how. It's a very long story. I... I'm not ready yet. Please, give me a week, and then I'll tell you. Everything." Harry's eyes pleaded with Bruce, and he found he couldn't say no to his request.

"Alright. One week." Harry smiled gratefully at him.

Bruce tried to tell himself he didn't enjoy that look sent his way.

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The week went by slowly, Harry thinking over his life and figuring out what he would tell the billionaire, and what parts he would leave out. There was just so much to tell. He also thought on what he would ask Bruce. He didn't exactly get a chance to question why Bruce became Batman. He'd walked around the gardens for a while and was approaching the front of the house. Coming around the corner to the front of the manor, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He stared in disbelief for a few short moments.

"Hello Harry." Expressive brown eyes stared into his shocked green ones.

"Hermione." Harry whispered in awe.

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There you have it! The big secret's out now, and a guest popped over to say hello! I've also given all of the previous chapters a bit of a face lift. Mistakes missed got fixed, added in more details in some areas, took some stuff out, that kind of thing. Drop me a review if you enjoyed this, and thanks as always for the awesome support.

-Angelwarrior1


	11. Chapter 10

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Beta:** Unbetaed

**Chapter 10:**

Hermione appeared different, and yet not. Her stomach wasn't round with pregnancy, which worried Harry slightly, as their pregnancies had been pretty much the same, time wise. Harry's pregnancy was shorter due to him being a male, but Hermione should've been due around this time. She must've delivered early.

"What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" Harry asked with worry in his voice.

"Yes, everything's okay, well other than you running off like that. Now where's my hug, Harry James Potter?" Hermione smiled at Harry and held her arms open towards him.

Harry grinned and rushed up to her, hugging her slightly taller frame snuggly. Her soft caramel colored hair brushed his cheek.

"How are you?" Harry pulled back and looked her over a bit more.

"I'm good. Very good. I have so much to tell you, Harry. I'm sure you have even more, though." Hermione gave him a knowing look and Harry blushed slightly.

"I do, and I want to hear everything about what's been going on back in the wizarding world. Come in, please." Harry ushered Hermione into the manor.

"My, I didn't picture you living in such a large place." Hermione studied the entrance area in slight wonder of its size and grandeur.

"It's not mine. It's a friends. I'm staying with him." Harry blushed slightly at his description of Bruce.

Hermione stayed silent, but Harry could feel her curious gaze on him.

He led her towards the room with the fireplace, it seemed to be the room where all the serious conversations Harry found himself recently having were taking place. They settled onto the couch together and sat for a moment in silence.

"So, how did you find me?" It was the one question Harry couldn't stop thinking about, so he figured he may as well get it out of the way.

"I never lost you, Harry. Not really, anyways. I could've found you anytime I wanted to." Hermione blushed a bit when Harry gave her a shocked stare of disbelief.

"What?! But- Then why didn't you come after me right away?" Harry asked numbly, he wasn't sure what to feel about this new information just yet.

"I'm sorry Harry. I know I shouldn't have done it, but after the war you were so... distant. It was like I was losing my best friend. You stayed in Grimmauld all the time, hardly ever spent any time with the Weasley's or me. I had a bad feeling, and I had to make sure you didn't do anything rash. I suppose I panicked a bit, we'd already lost so many people. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, Harry. You're like my brother. I put a tracking charm on you, before you left. I linked it to this necklace." Hermione held up the gold pendent for Harry to see.

"With the necklace, I didn't have to worry as much. It'll tell me if you're severely injured and near death, and I can come to you anywhere with this; provided there aren't wards up and such preventing it. If that's the case, it'll just place me somewhere close. I knew you left because you were feeling overwhelmed, and I figured you would just be angry with me if I'd followed you right away. That's why I didn't come to you, Harry, I didn't want you resenting me. I know you needed time away." Hermione finished and silence descended upon the pair, as Harry absorbed everything he'd heard.

Harry couldn't believe that the whole time he'd been in Gotham, Hermione could have come for him at any time. It was outrageous, and he _should_ be angry with Hermione for doing such a thing. Only, he wasn't. She was _Hermione_, his sister in all but blood. Her worrying like this and taking these kind of precautions was so like her, that he couldn't believe he hadn't seen this coming.

"Thank you, for giving me time. I appreciate you letting me have some time away. How did everyone take it when I left?" Harry finally broke the comfortable silence.

"About as well as you'd expect. Everyone went _nuts_, Harry. You only left a note for me, Ron, and the Weasley's." Hermione snorted.

"I left one for Andromeda too." Harry gave a soft glare in answer.

"Well that's so much better, isn't it? Anyhow, people started questioning the authenticity of our letters after a couple of months went by with no sign of you. Eventually, the ministry got involved and made us hand over our letters, of all absurdities. Then, of course, their brilliant minds put together that you were obviously kidnapped or something equally ridiculous, and there was an investigation. So whenever you do go back, you simply must go to the ministry for a visit." Hermione concluded with a bit of a sly look in her eyes, one that Harry recognized.

"You'll accompany me, of course." Harry spoke dryly and rolled his eyes a bit.

"As your best friend, it's my duty, Harry." Hermione reply smartly.

Harry smiled with warmth in his eyes at Hermione and was about to respond when Harry's baby monitor on his bracelet went off, the soft chime filling the silence. Anxiety filled him as he rose, Hermione followed in confusion.

"Er, excuse me for a moment." Harry left and started upstairs, towards Tom's room.

Unfortunately, Hermione didn't get the hint, or more like ignored the hint, and followed him the entire way. If he made a big fuss it would only fuel her curiosity. Hermione was as bad as he was when she wanted to know something. He just hoped her keen mind wouldn't start arranging puzzle pieces.

Arriving in Tom's room, Harry smiled when he came upon his baby's crib and saw an awake Tom.

"Hello, love. Nice sleep?" Harry pulled Tom into his arms and rocked the child slightly, then went and checked his diaper.

"A baby? Whose is it?" Hermione's voice broke the odd silence that hung about.

Harry didn't know how to answer. He didn't want to lie and say it was Bruce's, as it would only come out that it wasn't. He stayed silent, instead. Once he finished changing Tom's diaper, he turned, and found Hermione watching Harry with her thinking face on.

Harry knew that wasn't a good sign, as Hermione would figure things out if he let her think for too long.

"He's yours, isn't he?" Damn, she'd started putting the pieces together.

"But wait, you were still a virgin when you left, how on earth did you end up pregnant?" Harry sputtered at Hermione's blatant statement.

"And how do you know I'm a virgin? I could've been with someone. And how do you know it isn't a girl's baby?" Harry asked, feeling rather cross.

"Oh please, Harry. I would've known the moment you'd lost your virginity to someone. In fact, I'd have known the moment you were interested in another male, and you certainly weren't before you left. As for you being interested in a female? That'll never happen, Harry. You've been eyeing up the blokes at Hogwarts for as long as I can remember. From the looks of that baby he's about a month old, and male pregnancies only last about 7 months, which means when you left... Harry, was this the reason you left? Because you were pregnant?" Hermione's eyes widened upon her revelation.

"Yes." Harry uttered, quietly.

His arms tightened around Tom a bit, the child just staring up at Hermione, watching her.

"What's going on, Harry? How did you end up pregnant?" Hermione questioned softly.

With a heavy feeling in his stomach, Harry sat down in his rocking chair and told her everything. His arms holding Tom to himself, tightly, as if prepared to run away with him. Hermione stood there through the entire explanation, just listening, not betraying any emotion she might've felt about the situation. Finally, he reached the end of his tale, and sat with his head down. Tom was staring at his lips, and Harry offered a sad smile to his baby.

"Harry... Why didn't you come to us when you found out about the pregnancy?" Hermione's voice broke the heavy silence.

"What was I supposed to tell you two? That I was pregnant with a reincarnated Tom Riddle?" Harry kept looking at Tom, refusing to raise his head.

"For starters, yes. What you did was completely reckless. You didn't know if that pregnancy was going to hurt you or not. What if that was some sort of back up plan of Voldemort's? To be reborn like that?" Harry's head jerked up at that and he glared at Hermione.

"I seriously doubt that Tom Riddle would let himself even _consider_ becoming an infant again and relying on his _enemy_ to give birth to him!" Harry hissed loudly at Hermione.

"Exactly Harry! You're his enemy, and look what you did anyways! You're too kind, everyone knows that, and I'm sure Voldemort was aware of that too!" Hermione wasn't backing down, like usual.

"That's ridiculous, Hermione. Regardless of how kind I am, the fact still remains that he would be relying on me to take care of him. Do you really think he would let himself be _weak_ in front of his enemy? Literary anyone could kill him at any point until he was powerful enough to defend himself." Harry stared her down until she deflated, finally.

"Alright, I suppose you've got a point, but Harry, it was still dangerous all on its own. Do you have any idea how risky it was for you to be here without having any healers around? Male pregnancy is difficult at the best of times, and it sounds like you had some close calls here on your own." Hermione gave him a worried look.

"I'm not on my own anymore, though. Bruce and Alfred have been helping me, not to mention a certain caped hero who saved me a few times as well." Harry gave a slight grin.

"Uh huh. I hope you know what you're doing here, Harry. I can't handle another war cropping up in another twenty years or so, I'll be too old by then." Hermione frowned at him.

"It feels right, Hermione. When I saw that mangled child under the bench at the train station, I just felt I needed to _do_ something for it. I've always gone with my instincts, and they've never steered me wrong before." Harry pleaded with her to understand.

"Not never, or have you forgotten the Department of Mysteries?" Hermione's reminder was like a slap in the face, and Harry just gave a look full of venom for her hurtful words.

"That was below the belt, Hermione." Harry stated lowly.

"I sorry, Harry, but you were adamant then that you _had_ to go there. Those were instincts too." Hermione presented doggedly.

"That was different. My instincts and feelings for Sirius were confusing me. _Of course_, I felt I had to go. He was my godfather, the only family I had left. When I first found out about my pregnancy, I denied it for the first few months. Hell, I _drank_ through the first three months. The instincts I felt about the pregnancy weren't all tangled up due to family ties. I could've aborted Tom, but I didn't. I made the choice to give him a second chance, Hermione. You know what his childhood was like, can you honestly say that he doesn't deserve another try? A chance to have a happy childhood? _Someone_, just _one_ person who understands his gifts, and aren't frightened by them?" Harry implored one of his oldest friends.

Hermione's eyes softened during his passionate speech and she sighed, eventually.

"_Oh_! Alright! You're so dead set on pursuing this path. I swear Harry James, you can't just go and explore the world or settle down and marry. No! Instead, you go and try to save a man that tried to destroy everything in sight!" Hermione ranted and Harry grinned at her.

"Come on, Hermione. He didn't try to destroy _everything_." He chirped impishly at her, she sent him an unamused look in return.

"I'll keep your secret, but only because you have _the_ most _impossible _luck I have ever seen. And, maybe because you're instincts are usually right." Hermione finished softly, her eyes apologizing for the hurtful words she spoke earlier.

"Thank you, Hermione. This means so much to me." Harry's eyes spoke of forgiveness towards her.

"Have you even thought about a cover story for when you go back?" She gave him an arch look.

"Er... well, I hadn't thought about that just yet." Harry's sheepish reply confirmed her suspicions.

"Of course, well I suppose I'll have to help with that. Merlin knows what would happen, should people find out about your baby's true identity. What'd you name him, anyway?" She finally studied the baby curiously.

"Tom..." Harry peeked up through his bangs.

"...I swear your head has taken too many hits sometimes." Hermione deadpanned.

"Oi!"

"Well, as much as I'd like to stay, I've already been away for far too long. Ronald will likely be waking up soon, and I honestly didn't think my impromptu visit would take so long. I suppose I should've known better, though, considering who I was visiting." Hermione gave Harry an amused look.

"Aw, I still have so much to ask you." Harry was honestly disappointed.

"I know, I'll have to visit again, when I can get away unnoticed. I was lucky to find a spare moment." Hermione explained, as Harry put Tom back in his crib for a brief moment to escort Hermione out.

"Hopefully that'll be soon, I want to know all about your little bundle of joy."

"Oh, I had a girl. We named her Rose." Hermione grinned over at him and he bounced with joy slightly and hugged her.

"That's wonderful Hermione! Congratulations!" Harry felt like his face would break in two if he smiled any larger.

"Am I interrupting anything?" A deeper male voice queried.

The pair separated and looked as one over at the tall male standing in the doorway to the entrance area.

"Oh, Bruce. This is my best friend, Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Bruce Wayne." Harry introduced happily.

"A pleasure, Miss Granger." Bruce nodded, his mouth frowning.

"Weasley now, actually. It's wonderful to meet you. Harry's told me so much about you." Hermione greeted politely, smiling at the grim looking man.

Harry was a bit confused about why Bruce was being rather rude to his friend. He was also a bit hurt that apparently Hermione and Ron had tied the knot while he was away and she hadn't mentioned it.

"Has he? He hasn't mentioned you." Bruce just kept a dead expression on his face.

"Ah, isn't that just like Harry? Well, I'd best be off. I'll see you when I can Harry, we still have much to discuss." Hermione turned and hugged Harry again, who quickly hugged back.

"Yeah, we do."

Harry watched as Hermione walked out the door and a bit away from prying eyes, then with a pop, she was gone. He turned to Bruce, who was watching Harry rather closely.

"You going to tell me who that was?" Bruce finally asked.

"I suppose I owe you some answers. You owe me some too, though." Harry waited until Bruce nodded in agreement.

The pair moved to the kitchen and sat at the table.

"So, Hermione Weasley is your best friend. How long have you known her?" Bruce started.

"Since I was eleven. She and her husband, Ron are my oldest friends. We've been through a lot together. They're like- They're like my siblings." For some reason, Bruce lost his grim expression at that last bit of information, and all the tension seemed to bleed from the man.

Bruce didn't ask anymore questions, just listened as Harry began a lengthy explanation of the war and his place in it. He left out his early childhood, as he never talked about that with anyone, but he touched on what he needed to for the story to make sense. Bruce seemed to follow along very well, but Harry supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, considering who the man was. Eventually, the tale came to an end with a pregnant Harry making his way to Gotham and meeting a homeless man named David Forrester.

"So that child, is your former enemy?" Bruce's voice began lowly.

"Yes, and before you start, I already got a lecture from Hermione on how dangerous this whole thing was, still is. If you need us to leave, then we will, but I'm not deviating from this path. I chose to do this, and I'll see it through to the end." Harry stated, giving the man a look that dared him to try and change Harry's mind.

"Even if the end results in many people dead?" The man challenged back.

"If it comes to that, then I'll do what I have to. I'll stop Tom." Harry raised his chin and challenged back.

"You can't watch him all the time." Ice blue eyes stared hard into bright green ones.

"Obviously not, but I'll do the best that I can to monitor him." Bright green eyes didn't back down.

"What I mean, is you'll need help." Bruce finally laid out.

"Are you willing to help me?" Bruce nodded, still not breaking the staring contest.

"How did you become _him_, Bruce?" Harry finally asked the question that had been on his mind since he'd discovered the man's identity.

Bruce was silent for a time, and Harry didn't push, for he knew how stories could be difficult to start. He waited, and waited a bit more, then in a low voice, Bruce told the story of how he became the symbol of fear to his enemies. How he lived amongst the thieves to understand why they stole. How he survived in prison in another country and learned how to fight multiple opponents and not lose to them utterly. How he was taken in by a mentor and learned the use of theatrics and deception, and how he thought he'd lost that mentor to Death's cold grip. Harry listened to a tale so fascinating, and no less fantastic than his own, full of its own heartache and dangers. Finally, Bruce ended his tale with rescuing a pregnant young woman, who he would later learn was a wizard, and how he'd meet her again as David Forrester.

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a bit, each having much to absorb.

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A few days later and Hermione was ringing the doorbell to Wayne manor. Alfred greeted her that time and was charmed utterly by the kind young woman. The pair made their way to Harry and the two best friends, plus the infant Tom, settled in front of the fireplace.

"So, Mrs. _Weasley_, when did you get married?" Harry gave Hermione a cross look.

"Ron and I had a private ceremony, just the two of us, due to me being pregnant. Ron didn't want to leave his child a, in his words, bastard child, for very long. Molly threw a fit when she found out. The rest of the family was a bit more understanding that we didn't want to get married with a larger ceremony until our best friend was there to witness it." Hermione gave him a pointed look, and Harry blushed with shame.

"Sorry."

"It's alright, Harry. You obviously had your own problems. Speaking of, I've thought of a cover story for you. Er, mind you, it'll need the help of another man." Hermione shrugged her shoulders in apology.

"Another man? Why?"

Hermione explained. Harry blinked at her genius.

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A charity ball. Bruce hated those. All those socialites, pretending they cared about whatever cause the ball was being held for. In reality, they were just there for publicity, elbow rubbing, or a not-so-discreet one night stand. He debated on whether he should ask Harry to go with him.

He'd told Bruce the rather ingenious plan his friend had come up with, and he had to admit, he was a bit miffed he hadn't come up with it himself. At least he didn't hate the woman on sight anymore. He'd felt an ugly feeling he'd recognized as jealousy flare in his belly when he'd come upon them hugging that day. Once he learned of Harry's relationship with the woman, he'd felt the feeling leave him, and her plan only made him start to like her more. It was a perfect opportunity, and it gave him ideas of his own. Brilliants ideas that could lead to something truly wonderful for all involved.

Bruce decided he would be asking Harry to that charity ball.

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Harry wasn't sure what had possessed him to say yes. Perhaps it was the fact that Bruce had asked him to a ball. Perhaps it was the way his stomach gave an odd flutter when the man had asked. Perhaps he was just insane, as he had to go and be amongst the upper class of Gotham, which seemed to be just as ruthless as the lower class.

Harry had donned the gorgeous gown Bruce had given him for Christmas. He was, of course, wearing the hair clip Bruce had gifted him as well. Bruce hadn't given him a disapproving look when he came down to leave. The man had actually told him he was quite lovely in the gown, so Harry counted that as a small victory.

Bruce informed him of what to expect when they arrived, and explained a bit about what he should do if approached by certain people. Basically he was arm candy for the night on the arm of Brucie Wayne. Normally he would be outraged at the concept of having to keep quiet and act pretty, but he found the situation rather amusing. He was arm candy to a man who was known as being vapid and good looking. So, he was arm candy to arm candy?

Harry chuckled in the limo and Bruce arched a brow at him in question. Harry just smiled and shook his head.

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There were, of course, photographers and reporters when they arrived. Bruce made sure Harry was aware of that, and told his date to let him handle the press. He knew Harry was dreading his picture being taken, but Bruce didn't think Harry had anything to worry about. Harry made quite the image of beauty in his emerald dress. In fact, Bruce was dreading Harry's attendance for an entirely different reason. He knew it was necessary to their plan to introduce Harry officially to Gotham, but he had a feeling that his date was going to garner many male admirers.

Inwardly composing himself, Bruce opened his door and stepped out of the limo. Flashes of many lights would've blinded him, but he'd turned his head back towards Harry to help him out. The moment Harry stepped out the flashes multiplied in their direction.

Harry did as instructed and ignored the cameras and questions being thrown their way, letting Bruce guide him to the entrance of the large mansion that belonged to the host.

Bruce decided to stop at the entrance and answer a few questions.

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne! Who's your date this evening?" A female reporter asked, though Bruce didn't recognize her.

"This very lovely woman is Harleen Riddle. She's currently my house guest." Bruce gave a charming smile to melt the reporter, which it did.

"How long will Ms. Riddle be staying with you?!"

"Why is she staying with you?!"

"Are the two of you in a relationship?!"

"I'm afraid we're running late. If you'll excuse us, we'll be heading inside." Bruce turned and led the red-faced Harry inside.

The shouts of reporters calling his name were shut out when the doors closed behind them. There were numerous guards around the entrance area, watching silently for any party crashers or trouble makers.

Bruce glanced over at Harry and saw him frowning a bit. Bruce smiled a bit and rubbed the hand resting on his forearm in slow calming circles.

"You'll do fine Harleen."

"What if I get asked to dance? I don't know how to dance!" Harry frantically looked over at him with large green eyes.

"I'll make sure no one gets you to dance with them. The only dance partner you'll have is me. Just stick close to me." Bruce promised.

Harry nodded in relief and the pair finally entered the ballroom. The place was filled with dancing couples, twirling and dipping about to the string quartet at the front of the room. There were people laughing and talking with wine glasses in their hands. A long narrow table stood to one side of the room with finger foods laid out on silver platters.

Bruce let Harry take the entirety of the room in and then led him into the snake pit.

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Sorry this took so long to get out. I've had this chapter done for a while now, but life got in the way of me editing it for release. I'm going to school now, working on my bachelor's degree in Graphic Design. I won't be abandoning any stories, but I'll have less time to focus on them. I will, of course, work on them when I have time and inspiration. Thanks to all the readers out there who have been so supportive of this story. I really do appreciate it.

-Angelwarrior1


	12. Chapter 11

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Beta:** Unbetaed

**Chapter 11:**

He was crouching, staying low as he watched through the crack of the heavy curtains the scene that took place beyond the closed glass doors. Men in tuxedos patrolled around the inside of the ballroom, keeping the socialites of Gotham in line with their guns. How could things change so quickly? It was only an hour earlier he was mingling on the arm of Bruce Wayne with these people...

The moment they'd entered the ballroom, numerous eyes were on the pair. Harry felt that familiar zing travel through his body when he was being heavily scrutinized. He'd always hated that feeling.

"Bruce, dear! I didn't know you were coming tonight!" The pair looked over to their enthusiastic greeter.

"Miranda, it's wonderful to see you!" Harry was surprised to hear genuine joy in Bruce's voice, and looked over to see a matching smile on his face.

Miranda glided over gracefully and pecked one of Bruce's cheeks. Bruce gave a small kiss to her hand in return. Harry wasn't sure what to do, so he just stood and waited for Bruce to introduce him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?" Miranda pouted at Bruce playfully.

"I wasn't sure if I could make it, Miranda. Luckily, I was able to find a date." Bruce chuckled softly.

"As if you could ever have trouble finding someone to grace your arm Bruce Wayne." Miranda scoffed lightly.

"You'd be surprised." Bruce smirked slightly in remembrance of some of his more disastrous dates.

"Oh? Well you certainly didn't arrive all by your lonesome tonight. Come now, don't be rude Bruce, introduce me to your date." Miranda looked at Harry's dress in admiration.

"Of course. This lovely creature who has deigned to grace me with her presence tonight is Harleen Riddle. Harleen, this is Miranda Fleece, the host of this glorious event." Harry and Miranda glanced at one another and rolled their eyes at Bruce's flattery.

"And now that my date has stopped with the flattery, may I just say it is very nice to meet you Miss Fleece." Harry smiled genuinely at Miranda and offered his hand for a shake.

"Please, call me Miranda. Is isn't often Bruce is so taken with his dates. I've seen more than a few angry women walk off early." Miranda shook the offered hand lightly.

"They must've been overwhelmed by his charming personality." Harry smirked and winked at Miranda.

"Oh Bruce, I do like her. If you're smart you'll keep this one all to yourself." Miranda laughed freely into the spacious ballroom.

"Believe me, Miranda, I intend to." Bruce smirked in reply.

"Well, I'd best go see to the other guests. Do enjoy yourselves you two."

"Oh we will. You've done a marvelous job as always. I'm sure you'll earn plenty of money for tonight's charity." Bruce praised.

"This really is quite beautiful, Miranda." Harry agreed.

"You two are sweet, really. Have a wonderful evening." Miranda nodded at the pair and glided off towards more party dwellers.

"She was nice." Harry smiled over at Bruce.

"Yes, Miranda's a sweetheart. She's always raising money for various charities. Much of her own wealth goes into Gotham's numerous charities." Bruce informed Harry as he escorted him around the humongous ballroom.

That first conversation seemed to set the stage for the evening, as Harry found himself hanging on Bruce's arm and meeting many of Gotham's richest. He found many of them too much like the wizarding world's purebloods to really like any of them. Looking over at Bruce chatting pleasantly with another of the many wealthy of Gotham, Harry wondered how he could stand playing the role of an airhead. The man Bruce was talking to was practically talking down to Bruce, as if he were too stupid to understand the conversation!

"-speaking of which, may I have this lovely young woman's hand for a dance?" Harry almost jumped at that last part, as he finally tuned back in to what was being said.

He looked over helplessly at Bruce and tightened his hold on the man's arm.

"Actually, Harleen promised me the first dance, didn't you Harleen?" Bruce chuckled and looked down at Harry, giving him his out.

"Yes, that's right. I'm sorry, I forgot!" Harry smiled nervously between Bruce and the other man, whom Harry couldn't remember a name for.

"That's alright, you go and have your first dance with your date. Perhaps later I can squeeze one in." The man leered at Harry during the last bit, making Harry want to sock the man in his smug face.

"Come on Harleen, before anyone else tries to steal you away." Bruce tugged Harry gently away from the sleezeball eyeing his date up like a piece of meat.

Harry cringed slightly as the other male laughed at Bruce's words. Bruce led him out onto the dance floor and Harry nearly freaked out when he realized they were really going to dance.

"Bruce! I told you I can't dance!" Harry hissed earnestly at Bruce while the man began positioning Harry's hands in the right positions.

"I know, and I told you I would make sure you didn't dance with anyone else. The only way I can think to do that is to dance with you myself. Now, this is a slower waltz, I'll show you a few simple steps and you just repeat them, alright?" Bruce waited patiently for Harry to decide.

"Okay." Harry whispered and gave a small smile up at Bruce, who returned his smile genuinely.

Bruce showed Harry the steps in silence, the music drifting over the pair, while the sound from the party goers seemed to disappear. They were in a different sphere from the rest of the world. It was a different moment, a special place and time for just the two of them.

Harry barely realized when he stopped checking his steps and just stared up into Bruce's content face. He could feel his own lips setting into a relaxed little smile.

The song stopped and a new one started, jerking the pair from their private world. Harry looked around, noticing they had a few onlookers.

"Looks like my atrocious dance moves brought some attention to us." Harry whispered to Bruce, who appeared to already be monitoring the crowd, while keeping his carefree persona up.

Harry had no idea how the man did that.

"They're likely just jealous." Bruce commented flippantly.

"Jealous? Of what?" Harry frowned in confusion, which only made Bruce smile down at him in amusement.

"Of you, of course. Would you like to go to one of the balconies for a few minutes of some fresh air?" Harry wasn't sure what was going on, but fresh air sounded great at that moment, so he nodded up to Bruce.

The pair made their way to the last balcony in the furthest corner of the ballroom. Bruce closed the heavy glass doors behind them and shut the curtains, giving them complete privacy. Harry took a deep breath of the chilly Gotham night and leaned on the balcony railing, looking out into the night. Bruce came up next to him and rested one arm on the railing, facing Harry and gazing out with him. The silence lasted for several minutes. It was nice, the air was quiet, with the muffled din of the party going on inside. Harry found himself wishing for that moment to stretch on, but it was broken eventually.

"You're doing well, many of the spoiled socialites in there really took a liking to you, or were utterly jealous of you." Harry glanced over to see a smirk on Bruce's face.

"I fail to see how that's a good thing, jealousy spawns ugly things inside of people's hearts." Harry sighed and looked down at his hands.

He heard the quiet inhalation of Bruce getting ready to respond when a sudden bang went off in the large room closed off to them. Harry moved, as if to rush in, old instincts rushing to the surface, but an arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled his back into a firm chest.

He turned his head, ready to argue with Bruce when he saw the man raise his pointer finger to his mouth in a shushing motion. Bruce moved the pair forward to the closed curtains, peeking through one.

"Looks like a robbery. There are a group of men in tuxedos holding assault rifles." Bruce muttered lowly to Harry.

Bruce finally released Harry and turned to him.

"I know. He's needed. I'll be your alibi and stay here. Just be careful, the last thing I need to tell Alfred when we get home is that you have a bullet wound that needs tending to." Harry gazed steadily into Bruce's eyes as he spoke, letting the man know how serious he was.

Bruce nodded and activated a button on his wrist watch, converting it into a mini grappling hook. He attached and secured it to the ledge quickly, then drop over the balcony. Harry sighed and turned to watch the robbery behind the heavy glass doors.

The thought of not being able to help stung deeply with Harry, as he was used to doing something to stop people from being hurt. Instead, he was reduced to sitting and waiting for Bruce Wayne to get back from fighting the criminals. He hated feeling useless.

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Stooping low, Batman peered around a corner and spotted a thug standing guard at the closed ballroom doors. Going in through the doors wasn't an option, he'd be shot before he could take out the first man in there. He couldn't risk anyone getting hurt. Looking up, he internally frowned at not seeing anything that could help him there either.

It looked like he'd need to find an alternate route in, but first, the guard at the door was a liability.

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Harry finally moved to crouching low, no point in being spotted. He sighed as he waited for Batman to make his appearance. He wasn't sure why he'd volunteered to sit back and wait, it wasn't like him at all to be left behind. It was probably because he knew he couldn't do anything to help. What could he do, throw his show at one of the bad guys? Movement caught his eye, and he looked to a balcony that peered over the ballroom. In the darkness of it he could see a flutter of something. Figuring it was Batman, he held his breath in anticipation.

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He'd found a way to reach the balconies, and sat there taking the men's positions in. He saw his moment when one of the men moved near one of the balconies. Moving silently, he made his way to the balcony the man was soon standing under. Batman wasted no time and shot down, grabbing the man and swooping back up into the balcony as he incapacitated him. The man had, unfortunately, made a muffled sound, which alerted one of the men.

"What was that?!" The man swung his gun to the source of the noise.

"What was what?" One of the other men questioned lazily.

"I heard something."

"Was probably nothing important." Another suggested.

The man didn't looked convinced, and stayed alert for any other sounds after that.

Minutes went by in silence, and when the man finally relaxed his stance, his scream spooked everyone into looking over just in time to see heavy cords of black wrap around the man, the heavy balls at the ends entangling the rope securely. The man fell over, losing his gun in the process.

The men shouted in surprise, demanding whoever it was to show themselves. Their only answer was black pieces of metal shaped as bats spinning through the air and knocking several of them out. Many began firing their guns in response, causing the hostages to scream in fright. Batarangs shot from the darkness of the balconies overhead and lodged themselves in the gun barrels, causing them to malfunction and injure the men holding them.

The anarchy of the moment gave Batman his opportunity to swoop out of hiding and land on one of the men in his landing, the others remaining were punched and kicked into surrender before they knew what'd happened.

The guests shakily began to realize the threat was over and composed themselves, only noticing after a few moments their savior had left already.

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Harry spun around when he heard movement over the edge of the balcony.

"Nice job. They didn't even realize what was happening until it was too late." Harry praised Bruce as he finished climbing over.

"Glad to know I have your approval." Bruce muttered dryly.

"Err, so now what? What's our excuse for not being out there?" Bruce glanced over and looked at Harry for a moment, thinking.

He approached Harry slowly, still looking him over, which put Harry on edge.

"What?"

"Hold still." Bruce reached out and began moving his hands over Harry's hair, messing it up gently.

"Hey! It took awhile to make it behave! Don't mess it up!" Harry exclaimed.

"Have to." Bruce replied unconcerned.

The man then began wrinkling up his own clothes and hair, much to Harry's bewilderment.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Bruce only smirked lightly at Harry's confusion.

"Just play along Harry, it's part of our alibi." Bruce said and moved back over to Harry.

"How?" Harry looked up at Bruce, searching his blue eyes for an answer.

"Just trust me." Bruce gazed back, content in the security of his plan.

"Alright." The fight left Harry with that response, and Harry let Bruce continue with his plan.

Bruce took Harry's arms and moved them to Bruce's shoulders, draping them. Then he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and tugged him close. Harry's breath caught at being so close to the man.

"I have to put a few marks on your neck." Bruce's voice seemed to charge through the air with it's husky quality.

Harry could only nod in response, and closed his eyes when a mouth found its way to his throat. Feeling the wet suction begin, Harry couldn't help but let his head fall back, which was swiftly supported by a hand cupping the back of it.

A small hum of enjoyment escaped Harry's throat before he could stop it, pulling a low rumble from the gentle mouth suckling. The mouth soon detached and moved to another spot, which seemed to be very sensitive, as Harry gasped in surprise.

Bruce only chuckled in response, making Harry tug his hair in reprimand.

"Oh my!" The distant sounding voice broke the pair from the increasingly intimate atmosphere.

"Well at least we know they're alright." A male voice laughed, causing a few others to share in the joke.

Harry immediately scrambled from Bruce's arms, much to the man's amusement, and hid behind him while he straightened his dress and hair. He was going to murder the man for coming up with such a plan when they got home.

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Bruce smirked in satisfaction as the news paper article speculated all sorts of things about one Harleen Riddle, all of which was false thanks to Batman's inference. It would seem the press had dug into Harleen Riddle's background to find out more about the illusive woman Bruce Wayne had taken to the ball. Having anticipated such a move, he'd created a fake background for Harry's alias, with Harry's input.

Hermione pointed out how easy it was for anyone to find images of Harleen Riddle in the paper, and mentioned how any magic users could notice certain similarities between a feminized version of Harry and Harry himself. Harry didn't think much of such an argument, but Bruce insisted it be taken care of, as he wanted no risks to Harry being left.

After a few weeks of research, Hermione and Harry worked up a spell to massively distort any picture of Harleen Riddle in a viewers mind. This would cause people to see a slightly altered image of her, turning the mind away from making any links to Harry Potter. The spell required a ritual, which Hermione and Harry completed in Bruce's garden privately.

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Having taken care of the ritual, Harry found himself bored. Taking care of Tom was something he was used to, and it wasn't difficult, as Tom couldn't do much but sleep and listen to Harry read to him. He'd tried to get Tom to play with building blocks he'd bought him, but little Tom would just sit and look at them with a funny look on his face, which stated he clearly wasn't impressed with them. Instead, Harry found that Tom seemed utterly entranced by listening to Harry, so Harry would read to him. He read all the stories he'd wanted read to him when he was a child, and adored having Tom rest his little head against him as he explored these unknown worlds with the baby.

Unfortunately, there was only so much reading Tom could listen to before he'd fall asleep, so Harry found much of his time free. Seeing Harry's frustration, Alfred recruited his help in the kitchen, having heard from Bruce what a wonderful cook he was. Harry found the suggestion to be very enjoyable, as the manor's kitchen was huge compared to his old apartment's. Working with Alfred, Harry learned many things about Bruce. He smiled listening to the tales of the man's childhood, and truly felt for him when he learned of the sorrow he'd experienced by the death of his parents.

Near the end of February, the nineteenth to be exact, Harry learned that it was Bruce's birthday. He also learned that the man didn't really acknowledge it, just went about his business as if it were just another day. Having always wanted someone to wish him a happy birthday as a child, and not having anyone so much as glance at him, he wanted to show Bruce how much he appreciated his birth.

He made a small cake, his favorite kind according to Alfred, and cut a small piece of it. On the cut piece, he scribed the words happy birthday with some of the filling. He placed it in front of the giant computer monitor and put a plastic covering to preserve it while it waited to be eaten.

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Batman returned late to his home, as usual. This was his routine, he went out, helped those who couldn't help themselves and returned at the end of it all sore and tired, but feeling like he'd done something worthwhile. He almost always found Alfred there waiting to patch him up and feed him, but that time he found no one waiting. He didn't dwell on it, figuring the man was doing something else, and went to remove his suit. He paused when he reached his computer, seeing there was a covered plate of cake sitting there. He removed the plastic covering and stared at the slice of cake proclaiming the joy over his birth, with the single candle imbedded in it. There was a lighter next to the plate.

He sat down slowly, still staring at the single piece of cake, and thought of nothing special at the moment. He knew Alfred hadn't done it, the man stopped putting writing on his cake when he'd asked him to in his early teens. It was Harry, he'd obviously done it. He considered telling the same thing to the young man as he had Alfred, but something held him back.

He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was that joyful glow of life Harry seemed to carry in his aura, but Bruce didn't want to disturb it, whatever it was.

Instead, he picked up the lighter and lit the candle on his birthday cake.

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A frown came over his lips as he observesd how stiff Bruce was moving that day. It was obvious that man had not had a pleasant night being a vigilante. He contemplated offering a shoulder message, but knew he'd be turned downed. The man hated showing weakness. Harry usually admired the man's dogged stubbornness, but at the moment it was being a pain to witness.

He'd been feeling it cloy its way to the surface, that old itch of saving people. Now that he was no longer pregnant, and Tom didn't require as much of his time as he'd initially thought he would, Harry finally figured out what he needed to do. He needed to help people, just like Batman did. The only problem was he wasn't Batman. He didn't know martial arts, and he only had his magic, not an endless amount of gizmos to help him out.

First thing he needed was someone to teach him, but he had no idea how to find anyone. So he asked Hermione.

"Why would you want a martial arts teacher?" Hermione looked over to him oddly.

"So I know how to defend myself of course. I hated feeling defenseless while pregnant, and I want to make sure I never feel that way again." Harry internally winced when he knew Hermione had caught onto something.

"What happened?" He couldn't see her concerned brown eyes at that moment, he knew he'd tell her if he did.

"I don't want to talk about it. It- it wasn't good."

"Did-?" Hermione began.

"No, someone helped me. I'm okay, Hermione. I just need this. Please." He finally brought his eyes up to Hermione's, showing how desperately he needed her help.

"Alright, I'll look into it." Hermione sighed quietly.

"Thank you."

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Sorry this chapter took so long guys, school has kept me very busy. Please stop asking me if I've abandoned this story. I won't be, and any announcements about cancelled stories has always appeared on my author's profile. On another note, I've stopped posting on Ao3 temporarily as my last and first chapter kept getting switched whenever I posted a new chapter. If anyone knows if that was an error that's been fixed, or if I have to post in a certain order, let me know. Here's to hoping the next chapter doesn't take so long, eh? (Raises a toast of delicious Sangria)

-Angelwarrior1


	13. Chapter 12

**Secunda Fortuna**

**By:** Angelwarrior1

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

**Summary:** He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

**Beta:** Unbetaed

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Harry hadn't imagined how grueling training in hand to hand combat could be. He'd learned the basics when Dumbledore had hired a tutor one summer, but it hadn't been anything like this was. His entire body felt like one big bruise!

As usual, Hermione had gone above and beyond, and found a man versed in several forms of fighting. This man had weapons training of various types, hand to hand training, even stealth training! He was like a walking one man army with his accumulated knowledge, and Harry thrived under the man's tutelage.

The man called himself Eric, but Harry knew that wasn't really his name. He didn't much care though, he'd hired the man to teach him fighting, nothing else. He would get stronger. Harry would not be caught in someone else's grip again as some powerless victim.

He would help others find their strength as well.

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Bruce looked at the dazzling emerald set in the white gold ring, turning it one way then the other, letting the light catch in the gem. It was large enough to catch attention, but not so big it was gaudy.

He imagined it would look nice on Harry's slender hand. It was time to set Hermione's plan in motion. The timing was right. He would just need to convince Harry.

He nodded to the sales person that he would take it.

It would do.

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Harry was exhausted, but knew he had to look after Tom. Tom came first. It was his own fault he was tired, but Tom was relying on him, so he went to see his child.

Tom was awake.

"Hello, love. Awake already I see. Come then, let's get you some lunch." Harry winced slightly as he settled Tom against his side.

He'd taken a nasty fall during training. If one could call getting their ass kicked all over a forest training.

Harry settled Tom on his hip as he began preparing his bottle. He'd gotten very efficient at doing the task one handed. Tom watched his movements, it was one of the only times he'd seen Tom so fascinated with something, so he made it a habit to let Tom watch him perform tasks.

Harry even talked through the steps, as if he were teaching Tom how to do them. For all he knew, maybe he was. He'd taken to spending even more time with Tom after starting his training. He supposed he felt guilty about going through with what he planned to do.

He would be endangering himself with his future actions, and he knew that was selfish of him. He couldn't help it, though. Harry needed to help others. He'd practically been raised to do it. It may not have been right of him to think of doing this giant task, but Harry had to.

Maybe it would set an example for Tom, too.

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Bruce sat back on his hands as he watched Harry feed Tom his formula. It was a nice day out, and Bruce had managed to get a bit of free time to have lunch at the manor with Harry and Tom. They were outside, in the garden, on a clear area of grass.

He smiled slightly as he watched Harry finish feeding Tom, moved Tom to his shoulder with the cloth draped over it, and burped him. It was obvious he was used to it by that point, as he didn't even grimace. Bruce had yet to have the pleasure of feeding Tom, but he was fine with just watching. Tom still unsettled him. He supposed he would have to get over that eventually if he wanted to help raise him, and make sure he didn't try to start another war.

He was already making contingency plans for any outcomes, should Harry and he fail in raising Tom. It was a huge responsibility, and he often found himself wondering over Harry's compassionate nature that would allow him to give the man who'd murdered his parents a second chance. He hadn't been able to do such a thing himself. Bruce had wanted revenge against Chill, had almost gotten it. Sometimes he still wondered if some of his actions didn't stem from vengeance rather than justice.

Bruce blinked back into awareness when a carrot whizzed by his face, he'd dodged at the last second.

"What are you frowning so heavily about over there?" Harry asked as he ate his lunch.

Tom was next him, laying on his stomach, staring at some grass. He'd learned to roll over not too long ago.

"Just the future." Bruce answered vaguely.

"The future, huh? Anything good?"

"Possibly." Bruce reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box.

Harry stopped eating as he looked at the box, then swallowed and met his eyes.

"I think we should set our plan in motion." Bruce stated.

"Now? Isn't it too soon?" Harry asked nervously.

"No, it's not. You've had Tom, and your magic is back. You can come out of hiding without worrying about the repercussions. Besides, the longer you stay in hiding the more people will speculate in your world. The sooner you give our cover story the sooner things can calm down. If you take too long to come forward people will wonder why. When people wonder they create rumors. We don't want that. We need to be the ones controlling the story, not them." Bruce explained, knowing when he had Harry convinced.

"All right. I just hate the press. Such vultures, the whole lot of them." Harry grumbled, biting a piece of carrot off and chewing on it as he frowned.

"The press can be very helpful, if you know how to use them right." Bruce informed smugly, as he took a swig of his soda.

"Well sure, for the man with a contingency plan for his contingency plan, I guess they would be rather useful. For us regular blokes who just want to be left alone, it's not quite that simple." Harry snarked out, earning a sharp smirk from Bruce.

"You're not normal Harry, any more than I am. You just haven't learned how to make the media work to your advantage, but I'll teach you." Harry met Bruce's eyes after that statement.

"When do you want to put the big show on?" Harry finally asked after a few moments of silence.

"I'll let you know when I've picked a date." Bruce grinned wolfishly.

Harry just scowled and bit into another carrot.

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Harry was humming a song to Tom. Lately he'd been doting a bit on Tom. Likely just his guilt over all the training he's been doing. He wanted to make sure he didn't let his new quest to help the people of Gotham interrupt his more important quest of guiding and nurturing Tom into becoming a better man than he was in his previous life.

So he spent more time with Tom than he did with training, he made sure of that.

Tom was his mission.

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Bruce had picked a date, and told Harry about it two days ahead of time. He'd also gotten him an outfit to wear. It was quite glamorous and eye catching. Black with emerald hints here and there, a tantalizing slit going up one leg.

Harry sighed, he'd likely have to tuck for real if he didn't want anything popping out that shouldn't. At least Bruce had enough foresight not to pick anything revealing the chest area. It had thin straps for the shoulders and the rest was off the shoulders. Elegant, tasteful, and still sexy.

"Guess it'll work." Harry muttered as he held it up to his body as he stood in front of the mirror.

Harry proceeded to get dressed for what would be the biggest date he'd ever been on.

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Bruce looked over at the... well he wasn't sure what to think at the moment. Harry, or Harleen, as he was currently portraying, had charmed everyone in his vicinity so far. When Bruce had seen him glide down his staircase looking like some other worldly being it had taken all of his poise not to let his jaw drop.

Harry had looked beautiful the night of the charity ball, but the outfit he had on now... it was simply stunning to see on him. If he hadn't been one hundred percent sure of Harry's gender, he would've been fooled as he knew so many others would be.

Their plan was going to work. Harry looked like a high class goddess at the moment and there was no shyness to be seen. It was like a switch had been flipped when Harry had left him to go get ready. Bruce grinned up as Harry came down the remaining stairs until he was eye level with him.

"Well? Are you going to be a gentleman and offer me your arm or not, Mr. Wayne?" Harry raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.

"My apologies fair lady, I've simply been struck speechless by your dazzling appearance." Bruce quipped, as he offered his arm.

"Pfft, as if anyone could strike you speechless." Harry snarked, as he strode along with him confidently to the car Alfred would be driving them in.

"You'd be surprised." Bruce offered truthfully, helping Harry into the car.

"Uh huh."

That night they would be making headlines, he could feel it.

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Harry felt his insides churning, but they had been all night, so that wasn't anything new. He had no idea how he hadn't made a fool of himself all night, but somehow, when he'd seen himself in the mirror after all of his preparation he'd felt like a different person.

It was like calm had settled over him. He was Harleen Riddle, future wife of Bruce Wayne, and Harleen Riddle was different than Harry, for the most part anyways.

People had been stumbling over themselves all night trying to serve him and Bruce. He was getting a bit worried about that, actually.

"Do you think that poor man will be alright?" Harry leaned over and asked Bruce quietly.

"I'm sure he will." Bruce smiled back in amusement.

"Everyone seems to be having a bit of trouble tonight. I wonder why?" Harry mused quietly.

"I wonder." Bruce smirked softly at Harry, who was busy watching a woman nervously bringing their appetizer to them.

Harry really hoped none of the men or women tripped near them with food, he was pretty sure his outfit cost a small fortune.

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Bruce had managed to talk Harry into giving him a dance, being Bruce Wayne he was easily granted permission to dance with his date in the middle of the establishment. He made sure to put on a good show, spinning Harry a few times, knowing people were likely taking pictures with their cell phones.

Harry's confidence had faded a bit, which was a shame, but Bruce found a shy Harry just as charming as a confident one, if not more so. He kept the dance tasteful, while still making them appear close. After three dances he ended Harry's embarrassment and led him back to the table.

Their dinner arrived and the pair ate, while making sure to make a show of conversing lively, though neither had to fake interest in the conversation. Bruce made sure to flirt with Harry as much as he could in a believable way, and was satisfied to see the blush staining his cheeks.

He knew that Harry was truly attracted to him, it was hard to miss. Bruce was finding it harder and harder to resist giving in to his own attraction to the beautiful young man, but there was something holding him back.

A part of himself that couldn't trust that everything wouldn't fall apart. He'd never allowed himself to imagine a world where he could be Batman, and have a family. It couldn't be both, it had to be one or the other. Right?

Bruce blinked as a smaller hand covered his own. He looked up into Hary's green eyes, that showed concern for him. He smiled in reassurance, and Harry smiled back. Maybe things could be different.

It was obvious to onlookers they were well suited for each other, Bruce knew it was time to pull out the big guns.

Bruce got up and kneeled in front of Harry, smiling at him in reassurance. He pulled the box out and slid it over to Harry. Harry just looked at the box for a moment and then opened it slowly. The room was silent. Harry's face changed to shocked awe, as he hadn't seen the ring before.

After a moment of staring Harry looked over to Bruce, who made sure to look a bit sheepish, like the foolish playboy he was supposed to be. Harry nibbled on his lower lip nervously as he glanced at Bruce, then the ring. Finally, after the room felt like it had been holding its breath for ages, Harry looked up and nodded, grin slowly forming onto his face in happiness.

Bruce grinned back in an equal display of joy and leaned up, kissing Harry swiftly on the lips, surprising him. He hadn't told Harry he would be doing that, but he knew if he had Harry would've only been tense. With his quick actions, there hadn't been time, and Harry's shocked face could be taken for shock at the quickness of the kiss, not the act itself. Bruce Wayne wasn't known for giving quick pecks, after all.

He figured it only cemented their appearance as a couple.

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Harry frowned at Hermione.

"What do you mean am I sure? You came up with this plan, remember?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Yes, I know, but when I said you'd need another male I didn't think that would be your host!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What's wrong with Bruce doing it?" Harry frowned in confusion.

"Well, this is just a cover, Harry. Are you sure you should be doing this with the man you're staying with? I've looked Bruce up Harry, his reputation isn't exactly glowing, and you need a credible person for this story to be believable." Hermione explained calmly.

"Bruce isn't really like the media portrays him Hermione, you of all people should know how they skew things. Besides, he already knows about me and Tom, he's the perfect person for this." Harry defended.

"But Harry, this is just an act, and I've seen how you look at Bruce. You care about him. More than just a friend. I just don't want you taking things too seriously when you're trying to pretend. You could end up getting hurt." Hermione laid a hand over his as he stared down at them.

"I think it's already too late for that Hermione." Harry whispered as he looked up fearfully at Hermione.

"Oh Harry." Hermione just stared back sadly at her friend.

The two sat in silence for the rest of the visit.

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"Master Bruce, are you sure this course of action is wise?"

"What course of action is that, Alfred?" Bruce asked flippantly as he walked to the hidden passage for the cave.

"Simply the one of you getting engaged and eventually marrying one Harry Potter, or Harleen Riddle as he's known to the outside world." Alfred followed.

"What's unwise about it? We both have a cover for the other. Anyone tries to link Batman to me, Harleen is there to back me. Anyone tries to reveal Harry, I'm the devoted husband married to Harleen. What else is there?" Bruce explained calmly.

"You know as well as I do that it isn't as simple as that. Bruce." Alfred stopped, and Bruce ceased walking to turn to him.

"Alfred?" Bruce frowned.

"I always dreamed that one day you would find yourself someone to love and settle down, more so after your parents died. Now you are getting married, and it's not for love as I'd hope, but as a simple ruse to fool others. Marriage isn't about trickery, it's a partnership. A partnership you'll be involved with very soon with that good young man that's living here. I've seen how you react to him, you care for him, and maybe it isn't love right now, but it could be. If you let it, this facade could become something more, something greater. Don't let yourself be blinded to opportunity, Master Wayne." Alfred turned and left, leaving a speechless Bruce to take in everything he'd said.

He sat in the Batcave for an hour before leaving.

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The press, of course, went mad. Pictures from many different sources popped up of the pair dining, and even more of them dancing. The proposal had the most, though. Bruce kneeling down before a stunned Harry looking at the emerald ring was the image that graced the front pages.

There was the obvious speculations over Harry being just another gold digger, or Bruce having gotten Harry pregnant. They'd link the previous image of a pregnant Harry being the same woman, so some thought that was the reason for the engagement. Others didn't think Bruce Wayne would care enough to marry someone for that reason.

Overall, it was what he'd expected. Bruce folded up the paper and decided it was time to take over the story.

Time for a press conference.

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Harry tried to keep himself from fidgeting, but he found his hands wringing into his blouse. Bruce had him dressed smartly, but still beautifully. He wore a deep green button up silk blouse and a black pencil skirt. Low black heels adorned his feet, a black sun hat with green hints sat on his head, and a long diamond necklace hung down to his naval.

He was beginning to feel like a doll, the way Bruce picked out his clothes. He supposed it could be worse, though. At least Bruce had good taste. He likely would've made a fool of himself, if he'd tried to pick his own clothes out.

Harry took a deep breath, smiling at Bruce when he took a hold of his hand, squeezing it gently.

As soon as they stepped up to the podium, questions started ringing out. There were so many Harry couldn't hear a single one.

"I'm afraid we can't answer any questions if we can't hear them." Bruce proclaimed loudly into the microphone.

The noise quieted down gradually as laughter rang through the crowd of reporters.

"You there, with the hat, first question." Bruce began.

"Mr. Wayne, how did you and Ms. Riddle meet?" A man with a baseball hat on asked.

Bruce glanced at Harry, who blushed a bit. Bruce just smiled reassuringly, before turning back to the crowd.

"I met Harleen while away on a business trip. I was in Harleen's hometown, Surrey, when I ran into her, quite literally. I knocked her over while she was carrying groceries." Bruce grinned sheepishly as the expected laugh went through the crowd.

"I helped her up and we went on our separate ways, never expecting to meet again. The second time I ran her over, I decided to talk to her. We had a great conversation, and there was just an instant connection. Unfortunately, I had to return to Gotham and Harleen had to go back to her school. She was seventeen when I met her, so as you can imagine, I was quite disappointed to know I couldn't ask her out on a date." The crowd's voices rose to whispers, with a few laughs sprinkled around.

"We did exchange addresses though, as Harleen was quite insistent that we write to each other. Harleen is quite talented with a quill, as I discovered through our exchanges. Our letter exchanges lasted for little over a year, and during that time we fell in love. I eventually built up the courage to ask Harleen to come here and visit, to see if we really did have good chemistry. I'm happy to say we do." Bruce finished.

Bruce waited for the eruption of the reporters, and it didn't take long before people started shouting their questions again. He pointed to a woman and everyone quieted down as she spoke.

"Mr. Wayne, do you honestly expect us to believe you met this young woman and _only spoke_ to her because she was underage?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"Just because I like to date around a lot doesn't mean I don't know how to follow the law, Miss." Bruce stared back icily at her, making her back down.

"So how'd she get pregnant?" Another voice rang out.

"I'm pretty sure you know how, but obviously that happened once she arrived in Gotham, not back in Surrey." A few people snickered at the response.

"We have time for one more question." Bruce announced.

Bruce pointed at another man.

"When is the wedding?"

"Well, considering I only just asked Harleen last week, we're not really sure ourselves yet." Everyone laughed.

"Can we see a kiss for the camera?!" Someone shouted.

Suddenly there were more cries for a kiss, and Bruce turned to Harry, smiling. Harry blushed, and smiled nervously back, shrugging.

"I think we can arrange that." Bruce obliged and bent down toward Harry.

Harry moved up to him and tilted his head back, holding onto his hat. Their lips met in the middle, and flashes went off. Bruce felt Harry sigh into his mouth, all the tension from nerves going out of him. Bruce removed Harry's hat and held it to his back as he used his other hand to maneuver his head better.

Kissing Harry was just as he remembered it, only better. He wasn't drugged, so his mind wasn't hazy like it had been in his memory. He licked at the bottom of Harry's lips and Harry instantly let him in. Bruce licked through Harry's mouth once, softly, then parted from him.

Harry's eyes opened slowly, and Bruce smiled at the dilated eyes and dazed expression. Bruce used his thumb to wipe Harry's mouth.

"I hope that was good enough." He said to the reporter's, then guided Harry out to the car.

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Bruce and Alfred shared a look as Harry walk by, looking rather exhausted.

"Alfred, has Harry been having trouble sleeping?" Bruce frowned in concern.

"Not that I'm aware of Master Bruce, but he does sleep in rather late. Perhaps his sleep isn't as restful as it should be." Alfred speculated.

"Hmmm."

Now that he thought about it, Harry had been looking tired for a while now, weeks even. He'd been so busy with his other duties and planning their engagement and the press conference, he'd failed to really focus on the issue. He wouldn't anymore, though.

Bruce would be paying more attention to Harry from that point on.

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So I'm dreadfully sorry this one has taken so long to get out, but I ran out of prewritten plot, so I had to plan out the rest of the middle part for the story. I've always known how I wanted the story to end, it was just the middle plot points I couldn't figure out. Kinda like building something without all the fine details. So now that I have everything plotted out, I just have to write it. I know, fun! All the fun! And sometimes not so fun! Hope you enjoyed, and please if you spot any glaring plot errors I need to fix, tell me! This story is my baby! :D

-Angelwarrior1


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